I'll Think Of Something Later
by Daxii
Summary: SouHaru Advertising!AU inspired by How I Handle Business (Ao3 go and read it). Sousuke is forced to work with the irritating Haru for a week. But it turns out his company really isn't that bad. And he definitely wants more of it. Slow building one-shot with smut.
1. I'll Think Of Something Later

I sigh and roll my eyes for the twelfth time in the space of ten minutes, glaring over at my new colleague. He's a scrawny, young little thing. I think I was there for his interview. He made a similar impression on me then, too.

_Lazy_. That man – _boy_, is the epitome of lazy. It's obvious in the way he slouches in his chair, how his tie doesn't meet his collar, how his top button is open, how his sleeves are pushed up, the fact that those are _clearly_ black skinny jeans rather than proper trousers, his fingers twirling the pencil in his hand, his blue eyes gazing out at the window. Everything. _Everything_. And he's barely said a word.

At least the boss is finally getting a whiff of my mood. He slides the file over to me with a flick of his wrist and slams his hands down on the table in dismay.

"Look, I don't know _what's _up _either_ of your asses, but you both, especially _you_, Yamazaki, need to pull it out pretty fucking fast, because I need these, _all_ of these, completed by Monday morning. You're my best guys. You can pull it off, easily."

He bores his eyes into me and I glare back. He can't honestly be serious, can he? This fucking _kid_ is his best shot?

The kid in question clears his throat, and the boss and I both turn to him. He looks up at the clock, across to the door, and back at the boss. The hint is obvious.

"Sure, Nanase," the boss says, oddly calm, almost _affectionately_, "you're free to go. I know you have a train to catch. Yamazaki will email you with each overview before nine tonight, alright." I will, will I?

"Mmhmm," Nanase hums, slips his pad into his gaudy sport's satchel, and slips out of the door without even a wave.

The boss rounds on me, purple eyes narrow behind his red glasses. But I get in first.

"You expect me to work with _that_?!" I demand.

"I understand the situation is hardly ideal, but this really is the only viable option."

"Fifty posters in five days is _never_ viable to even fucking _start_ with," I back lash, wanting to tear my own hair out.

"Which is _why_ I need you and Nanase covering it. This isn't an _important_ deal, but it _is_ a big one."

"I've not even _seen_ the kid's portfolio and I'm supposed to feed him ideas? What's he even capable of? He's fresh out of school. You can still smell the _artiste_ on his clothes from whatever hippy laundrette he's been using."

"His _portfolio?!_ Sousuke, have you been living under your desk the entire time he's been here? Nanase doesn't _need_ a portfolio. Every single piece he's done this last three months has been accepted and been published. He's good enough that you can fire whatever crap that even _slightly_ fits the bill for these that you want, and he'll make it just _beautiful_," he gushes over the last word. I quirk an eyebrow in disbelief.

But in the end, I know I have to relent. I can hardly throw such a wobbler with the guy who pays me, it's just so _frustrating_ to be forced to work with someone almost half my age and such a polar opposite to me.

"Oh please, Sousuke. Don't pout. The guy's good looking even if you don't like anything else about him. And I _promise_ you the commission for this is totally worth it. But that's only _if_ you get it done."

Right. Because the kid having a pretty face makes me that much less wont to punch him. I'm not so sure, thank you very much.

At least he lets me go home early. But I've a mountain of plans to draft, after all. It's the least he can do, really.

Advertising. _Advertising. _Whose bright assed idea was it for me to go into _advertising_ of all things, anyway?

"But you're so _assertive_, Sousuke. You'll have them eating out of the palm of your hand," he'd said.

I feel like this particular idiot – not Nanase, although I still need to pay him _some_ attention tonight by sending him that email overview – deserves an abusive phone call at some point. The guy in question is an even bigger idiot than Nanase will surely turn out to be.

Yet somehow, he's my best friend.

But back to the task at hand, which at least is a pleasurable one. Getting myself well and truly _out_ of this high rise hell and home for a date with my couch. I don't know where Nanase lives, but I'm confident I can get home before him and still have time to unwind before I have to deal with the monstrous file now trying to bulge out of my briefcase before he's made his way through the maze of crowds that rush hour tube travel always brings.

Plans go as intended, and I even get chance to warm up some leftovers for dinner before time really starts to press its impatient little hands into my brain, telling me to get on with this email.

I've chosen my office as our venue to hold our meetings. Unsurprisingly, Nanase saunters in twenty minutes late. His hair is damp and un-brushed, and those are definitely the same pants he had on yesterday. Not that I'd paid _that_ much attention to them… honest.

"You're late," I scold. He shrugs. _Shrugs_.

"Trains… you know."

I'm almost speechless with his nonchalance, but at the same time, I'm still not surprised.

However I _am_ surprised when he comes over to my desk and dumps a plastic folder in front of me.

"You started?"

He shrugs again. "Those were easy…"

I unclick the little button and slide out the glossy pages. Out of habit, I check the timestamps printed on the back… 8:03am, this morning. He _wasn't_ late with the train, he'd been up to the print room. Well isn't that just… something. It's something. Not impressive, obviously. Takes a lot more than that to impress me-

_Oh_. Ok.

I'm impressed now.

The first A4 sized print is mostly green. There's so much green. And it's not even just one shade. It all blends into itself in just… green. It's almost like one of those holographic prints that shimmers between images, except this is _just green_. I've not even read the logo across the middle yet and I can just _tell_ this is going to be the poster for the grass people.

Nanase plonks himself down in the chair at the other side of my desk and I set the first print down without comment. I'm similarly bowled over by the other six he's already churned out, but if there's one thing I've perfected over years of being stuck with the most _unruly_ clients (thanks, Rei), it's how to pull off a poker face.

Although I've still got a long way to go before I can look as vacant as Nanase. He's got that down to an _art_.

No pun intended.

I choose my words carefully. This guy probably has an ego, one that he fully deserves, if these are anything to go by, but _I_ certainly won't be the one to fill it.

"It's always good to get a head start on a big project, but you must have stayed up late with this… that's bad for productivity in the long run."

"I was just doodling before bed," he shrugs, but there's a smugness to the glint in his eye.

If these are Nanase's _doodles_, well…

I clear my throat. "I thought it would be best to get some of the more challenging projects out of the way as soon as possible, do you agree?"

He shrugs, _again_, "You're the boss."

Hmm. I am, aren't I. Definitely the _senior_ partner on this project, anyway. I look him over. He _does_ have a pretty face, all eyes and cheekbones with a delicate little mouth. I'd probably feel a little better if he wasn't looking _me_ over in the exact same way, though. His artist's eye languidly tracing over my frame gives a new dimension on the feeling of being "undressed" just with someone's stare. He can probably work out every little curve and tone of my flesh just from the way my suit hangs over it.

Speaking of suits, I thought we had a dress code? And that ratty little jumper he's wearing certainly doesn't conform. He does _digital_ art, for shit's sake. There's really no reason to come in covered in little dated paint splatters, as if it's some excuse for keeping his clothes clean.

Suddenly, I become aware the silence has dragged on for too long. He's not even looking at me anymore. Instead, I can see his eye-line falling behind me to the decorative clock on the wall. I try not to fumble as I open my laptop. He puts his on the desk, too.

"What did you have planned?" he asks.

"Oh… erm…" well you see, you cocky little shit, we were _supposed_ to be completing this _together_, but… let's see how good he actually is, shall we?

I bring up the criteria for a cheap yoghurt company looking for a promotional display to print both as advertisements and on their packaging. It's more of a challenge, having them both in one. This isn't something that's just going to be hanging on a boring wall for a few months and then updated again. It's a long term thing, packaging, but he looks completely unfazed. But they're not a significant enough company where this actually _matters_, bottom shelf stuff, really, so I'm not afraid to wing it.

"Probably pale colours, like pink and orange, maybe a little cream in there too. The spoon that underlines the logo bigger, across the page, so when it sits on the front of the package it looks like it's dipping in… uh…" I look around both our screens. He's tapping away at his drawing tablet… I thought we were supposed to be making notes? "Are you even listening?"

"Pink. Spoon. Yeah. How's this?" he flips his screen around.

_It's perfect_.

"Not bad…"

_Holy shit_.

"Mm…" Nanase hums, and twirls his stylus, looking impatient. "Next?" he prompts, when he catches my eye.

Maybe this won't take five days after all…

Lunch rolls around. I've fully annotated the seven Nanase did the night before, just started working on the yoghurt one, and we've collaborated plans for five, which Nanase seems to be working on simultaneously, flicking tabs periodically to add a line under _here_ or shade _that_ just a little darker. I save my document and stretch, rolling my beat up shoulder a few times. It gets achy when I work for so long. Nanase's eyes are on me again.

"What do you usually do for lunch?" I ask him.

"Eat," he deadpans, stare unwavering.

I don't have the patience for this. There's a shop that does _great_ bagels just two blocks away. As I'm leaving, I hold the door open for just a second. I'm not going to explicitly _invite_ him to come… it's just a courtesy. He politely rejects the offer by pretending I don't exist.

On my return, Nanase has left the desk and sprawled out on the decorative chaise lounge that is supposed to be for _guests_, laptop balanced on this stomach and tablet resting on the small drinks' table he's pulled to his side. His eyes are half lidded, and if it weren't for the movements of his hand on the tablet, it would be easy to think he was settling down for a nap.

"I've got grapes, if you want some," I offer, because it's polite, I fully intend for him to reject.

He looks up, and I'm probably standing too close to him, judging by the way his eyes shrink back under my shadow. But I'm glad my presence is still a _little_ imposing. Maybe it'll make him sit the fuck up. On the contrary, he opens his mouth, and his eyes settle into something expectant.

I glare at him.

I am _not_ about to hand feed him grapes while he lounges on my chaise.

But he has other ideas.

"I can't get my hands sticky," he informs me, like it's the most important piece of knowledge I'll gather in my lifetime.

Maybe if I ram it in his mouth hard enough he'll choke.

…Or not. He chews appreciatively, and looks back to his screen.

It occurs to me that we could probably communicate this by email. I could have my office all to myself, how I like it, and he could go and work… wherever he works. Do our artists have their own offices? Studios? I have no idea. So in the end, I don't say anything. At least he's _quiet_.

Nanase was late again on the second day, hair again wet, clothes more dishevelled than usual, and this time he actually uttered something akin to an apology.

"I haven't been up to the print room yet… so… I'll be back," he says, a little embarrassed.

On his return, with another half dozen completed adverts, I shoot for a smile. I don't like his lax attitude, but there must be _something_ inside him that's striving to do well.

"Keep going at this rate and we'll be done by Friday," I say brightly.

"That's the idea…" Nanase muses, taking his position back on the chaise. "I have a thing at weekend… don't want to miss it for work."

"A thing?" I'm curious.

"A thing," he repeats, and the look on his face is very final.

We get to work, then, and there's something nice about having him in the office to muse to. We've got a bit of a system going, and it's definitely the kind that I like, because he just lies there and takes in what I say. The silences while I'm reading the customer's notes, looking at their history, all that boring stuff, are easy. The tapping of his stylus on the tablet it rhythmic and soothing, a constant little background beat.

Kid's got balls, too.

"_Red?!_ Why _red?!_ What's _red_ got to do with _orange juice?!_" he chastises, voice as loud as I've ever heard it, and it feels so much like I'm being told off that I blush sheepishly and apologise. He continues to scowl.

I throw a grape at him. It lands on his chest, but without enough force to splatter. He shoots me a look, and then, cool as anything, picks it up and eats it.

By that afternoon, I've made a game out of aiming for his mouth when I'm on a creativity crash. There's a minefield of missed shots surrounding the lounge, but I can ignore that. My aim is getting better, at any rate.

"What's wrong with your shoulder?" he asks all of a sudden at some point after lunch, and I'm a little amazed that he too only has so much stamina for this shit.

Something on my face must show… how had he known there was something up? And how much _cheek_ did he have to have to bring it up?

"Uh… sorry… if it's personal…" he mumbles, looking back to his screen.

"No… no," I cough. "It's… an old sports injury. It's fine."

He looks thoughtfully at me for a while, and his observational stare is unsettling, but without further comment he gets back to work.

Nanase's even _later_ on Wednesday, and I can't help the small pang of unadulterated _worry_ that courses through me when it gets to half past eight and I've even been upstairs to check if he's in the print room, but there's no sign of him.

"Sorry," he says, a slightly frantic tone in his voice as he bursts through my office door. When did I become so alright with someone not knocking? "Had a thing… for my thing… got a lift in… traffic."

I slowly nod, at this point more relieved than anything. "It's fine…" it's not, but I'm glad _he_ seems to be fine. "Did you get anything done overnight?"

He cocks his head and shoots me a look. "I emailed them to you."

I wince a little at how this must look… I've been here for forty-five minutes already and I've not even checked my emails yet. "Sorry," I cover, "been thinking. I'll get them printed now."

"I'll do it… they're on my memory stick anyway," he dumps his bag and turns to leave again. "Do you… want coffee?"

My mouth falls open and it takes a second for me to force words out of it. "Uh… sure. Little milk, no sugar."

"Mm," he hums, like he already knew.

Nanase makes good coffee. "This is great," I smile, warm and genuine, when I set the mug back down on the desk. He's sitting across from me, like the first morning, with a cup of plain, cold tea.

He looks much more refreshed after the quiet sit down while I muse over his latest works. It's painful to admit aloud but… "You're really talented," I can't help but say.

A shy smile slips up one side of his mouth, and it's unbelievably cute. I find myself staring for definitely too long, but he's looking right back.

I look away quickly, too quickly, and Nanase's eyes slip to the side too. I end up looking towards the shelf, where the almost finished packet of grapes still sits.

"We better finish these today, or they'll go bad," I muse, and reach for the little plastic bag. "Open up."

He blinks at me, brows furrowed for just a second, but then parts his lips. At such a short distance, there's no room to miss, especially as Nanase has gotten so good at catching them, too. We're almost an hour late with starting, but I can't even _remember_ the last time I grinned so much in a morning. I take the last grape and hold it out, twisting it teasingly between my fingers. He gets the hint and leans down, delicately taking it between his teeth. His tongue rolls out to scoop it into his mouth, and he just barely licks the tip of my thumb. I help with pushing it all the way into his mouth, and my fingers linger just under his chin for an extra second.

He gets up without a word, taking his tea with him and goes back to his usual seat. A few minutes later, I look over at him, and he's working calmly as usual, only there's a grape poking out between his teeth, occasionally being sucked into his mouth, rolled around, and then finally, when he's caught me looking, he bites down on it.

Later that afternoon, when it's almost time to start thinking about leaving, we're both torn from our comfortable, quiet revere with a crash of thunder outside. I knew rain was predicted, but nothing like _this_ was supposed to be on the radar. Nanase gives the sky outside the window a particularly venomous scowl. It occurs to me that that sarcastic little tongue of his could probably lash out quite the whipping if properly agitated.

"Would you like a ride to the station?" I ask, trying to make it sound like an afterthought. Nanase usually leaves ten minutes before me to catch his train, whereas I tend to hang back until the scramble in the car park has lessened.

"Um…" his eyes widen, sort of shocked. "If it's not too much trouble…"

"Not at all… wouldn't want your computer getting damaged in the rain."

I lead him out of the office, locking the door behind me. It's the first time we've really stood next to each other. I knew I was considerably taller, but his shoulders and waist are so slim, too. I suddenly feel clumsy and gargantuan walking beside him. We reach my car, and he cocks an eyebrow. Is that him being impressed? I should hope so.

"Nice colour," he comments, slipping into the passenger seat.

Well he would, wouldn't he?

The next morning, he's on time, with dry hair, and looking thoroughly miserable.

"What's wrong?" I ask on instinct.

"My weekend thing… not happening," he replies, grouchily, and I feel a twinge of sympathy for how disappointed he looks.

He's not done any work overnight, either. Not that he _has_ to do work from home, it's just really going to knock us back with finishing before the weekend.

"Well… at least you're free on Saturday now to finish up," I try and smile, but his scowl deepens.

By lunch, he's lost in an obvious sulk and we're making little progress. I step out from behind my desk and go to crouch by his head. "Show me what you've done?"

He minimises the solitaire game he's failing on, not even a hint of care that I've seen it, that I could reprimand him for this, and slowly flicks through the dozen half-finished designs we've discussed. They're still great, more than acceptable, but the difference in quality is obvious.

"Come on. I know the best sandwich shop."

I close his laptop, and he lets me take it from him and set it on the end of the lounge. Reluctantly, he rolls into a sitting position and flexes, stretching. It's tempting to run my hand through his hair, he looks so young, like a moody teen, and it occurs to me that I'm not even sure how old he actually is.

I broach the subject in an attempt at small talk over lunch. His mackerel and pineapple panini is a disturbing flavour combination, but he's already perking up.

"Where did you graduate from?"

"Um, high school?" he answers, nervously.

"So you're only eighteen?" my eyes widen, but he shakes his head. "Nineteen?" a nod. Well, at least I'm not _quite_ twice his age…

"I'm taking a few courses in my spare time… not that I've got much of that at the moment."

"Just with the local university?" he nods. "I have a friend who works there. Coaches swimming."

He pauses mid-bite, and apparently that's pressed a button or two, but he chews and swallows, and right when I think he's going to ask more, he looks away.

"Do you swim?" he finally speaks.

"Used to… but… shoulder," I grumble. "You?"

"Free."

Whatever I was about to say is ripped from my throat when my phone rings. There's no mistaking that ringtone. "Sorry," I say to Nanase, who turns his head dismissively. I answer the phone. "What do you want?"

"_Missed you too, Sousuke!"_ the voice on the other end laughs. _"I've got a bone to pick with you!"_

"Oh, great, what have I supposedly done _now_?"

"_My best kid just pulled out of the gala this Saturday. Said he had too much work."_

"And how is this _my_ fault exactly?"

"_Guess where he works."_ I say nothing. _"Future Fish."_

"It's a big company, Rin, again I fail to see how this is _my_ fault."

"_It just _is_, alright. I needed someone to moan at. There's no way I can get a good enough replacement in time… I'm gonna ring him right after this and ask him to reconsider. You should _see_ him swim, Sousuke. I've never seen anything like it. He could be Olympic material, if he set his mind to it."_

"Oh don't get so sentimental. You just want someone to follow in your footsteps," I chuckle at the dreaminess in his voice. "Either that or he's got a tight ass. You shouldn't get so hung up on your students."

"_Don't even get me _started_ on his ass. You'd love him, Sou. He's so slight for a swimmer, it's dead sexy. Black hair, blue eyes, nothing but cheekbones and this gorgeous little mouth…_" I look across at Nanase, who's still looking away. This description sounds awfully familiar.

"It's a good thing you don't coach high schoolers, Rin. You'd be locked up. Leave the kid alone, we're really busy at the moment. My… new partner and I are rushed off our feet this week." Nanase glances at my choice in words. I ignore the smug smirk.

As we're leave, Nanase's phone also rings. He quickly shuts it off.

"Sorry about that call…"

"It's fine… he seems like an… _interesting_ person."

I laugh a little and hold the door to the office open for him. "Gay swimmers. What can you do?"

He turns bright red.

"Oh shit, sorry… I… um… you're…?"

He nods.

"That's…" _hot_, "fine. Honest."

Nanase remains a little flushed as we get up to my floor, but settles into work looking much more relaxed than this morning.

If anything, the quality of his work is even _better_ than what I'd first seen. Obviously not having the pressure of finishing by tomorrow night had done him wonders.

It's not raining, but I drive him to the station again, anyway. On my way home, I pick up another pack of grapes.

There's twenty three ads left to finish. _Completely_ finish. From scratch. I come in half an hour early on Friday morning to make a start planning, and check my email immediately to see if Nanase has finished anything over night. No such luck. I _really_ didn't want to have to come in tomorrow morning but… shit happens, I guess.

Nanase comes in, his usual dishevelled, soggy self, but this time he's brought coffee, and five more posters for me to check off the list. My mood brightens considerably.

"So, do you swim before coming into work, Nanase?" I ask, opening the folder.

"Yeah… usually," he replies, already beginning to busy himself with setting his laptop and tablet up over on the chaise.

He comes back to the desk, but instead of sitting across, he comes around to my side and leans over, leans so _close_ I can't not smell the chlorine on him, and suddenly I'm far too hot. He's too close. _Way too close_.

Ashamed as I am to say it, it _definitely _need more than just a hot little body within reach to get to this point these days. But there he is, so close, almost leaning across my lap, and I'm so busy staring at him I haven't even realised what he's doing yet until he's backing off.

He looks at me, and cocks his head. I promptly close my mouth and hope to _god_ the dampness on my forehead hasn't become visible.

Suddenly it all makes sense. The teasing. The _grapes_. Oh _god_, I've been flirting just as hard as he has all week. I gulp. He's just a _kid_. There's no way he's seriously interested in anything. Anything serious, anyway… but maybe…

I'm no stranger to a hook up… and it's been a _while_…

"What is it you need?" I ask, voice low, accidentally sultry. His lips twitch up at my discomfort.

"Just looking at the new plans," he says, calm as anything, as if he has no idea what he's doing to me.

It takes me a minute to recover my senses, finally able to breathe again with him over at the chaise. After a couple of hours, he declares he's finished another three, so I go over, taking the grapes with me. I crouch next to him again, and press one to his closed lips. He opens up slowly, and with one finger cupped under his chin, I push it all the way in with my thumb, letting it sink in to the first knuckle along with the fruit.

I'm sure that little mouth could work _wonders_.

His work is good as ever, and I abandon my act of being unaffected. The kid deserves praise. For as lazy and rude as I thought him to be, he's turned out to be a pretty hard worker… and not bad company, either. I could definitely get used to having him around… in fact I'm pretty sure I'm going to miss him on Monday. I lean in further. There's a small part of my brain reminding me that he's _nineteen_ and we're at _work_ and this is wrong on more levels than I care to count but…

His eyes slip shut, his head turns expectantly in my hand to face me, and I completely close the gap between our lips.

He tastes like mackerel and grapes. I must taste like coffee. The kiss is soft, chaste, and only lasts a second.

"Are you suddenly feeling more motivated to get this finished by tonight?" I whisper, because I for one can think so something _much_ more entertaining to be doing this weekend. We both know it's an impossible challenge, though. But I'd bet on us finishing around lunch time tomorrow.

"I could use… maybe a little more encouragement."

Pushy little thing, isn't he? "Well, maybe you'll get a _reward_ if you're a good boy this morning." Good boy? Where did _that_ come from?

Nanase's eyes flicker, and maybe that's a thing. Maybe, while I'd been thinking he'd dismiss any attraction because of the age difference, that for him, that's half the fun.

I can't say it doesn't interest me a little too.

We lunch separately – yesterday had been a fluke – and I need to clear my head, get some _space_ from Nanase, just for half an hour. I've never felt like this before… Nanase's attractive, definitely, even the boss had said it, but that meant nothing, or at least, it was supposed to. I _shouldn't_ do anything. I should stop this as soon as we're done. Tell him the kiss was a mistake. We probably won't have to work with each other again, anyway. We can just forget about this week. Office romances aren't forbidden, not in the slightest. There's over five hundred people who work just in this building. _Flings_, however, are a different ball game, and one I'm definitely too old to be playing but…

Who am I kidding?

I want that kid.

But somehow, a certain red-head always manages to get in the way of the things I want.

Rin is at the reception desk of the Future Fish office building, waiting impatiently in line. Call me presumptuous, but I'm going to guess he's here to continue yesterday's rant at me. It's fine. I still have twenty minutes of lunch break left, anyway.

"Rin," I call out to him, making my way over from the canteen. I have to pass the desk to get to the elevators, anyway.

"Oh, hey, just the man I wanted to see. How do you fancy a drink?"

"It's _lunchtime_, Rin," I scold.

"Come on. Just the one. I know you have that Scotch in the office."

Yes, but I also have Nanase in the office… although, if Nanase's interested in swimming, Rin wouldn't be a bad person for him to meet in the long run, anyway. I can just picture his little face lighting up from meeting a gold medallist. We go up, and I knock once on the door to let Nanase know I'm coming in. I don't know why. It's _my_ office. It just seems polite.

"Uh, Rin," I start, holding the door open for him. "This is – "

"Haru!" my friend barks, and I look from Rin to Nanase, who's eyes have flown open in absolute surprise. "Oh my _god_, Sousuke. It _is_ your fault."

"W-what?"

"This is my swimmer!" he points dramatically at Nanase. "My kid who quit the relay because he had to do _work_," he yells, and rounds on Nanase. "You! I can't _believe _you chose Sousuke over _me!_"

"Um…" Nanase sits up, hands balled into fists in his lap, and looks at me for some kind of reassurance.

Well, at least I can agree with his description of Nanase's ass…

Everything falls into place. "So your 'thing' this weekend… you were meant to be in the swimming gala?" I ask Nanase.

"He _needs_ to be in the swimming gala!" Rin yells, again, and I clap my hand over his mouth to let Nanase speak.

"We're in a rush…" Nanase says quietly. "I didn't want to…" he doesn't finish, looking away, nervous and shy.

Rin breaks free and marches over to him, almost crawling into his lap as he squats in front of him and grabs his shoulders. Nanase doesn't look at him, though, and they both look over at me.

"Is there no way you can let up on him so he can swim? For _me_, Sou?" Rin pleads, like this is _still_ my fault.

"I'm stuck working this weekend too, you know," I snap back. Nanase appears to flinch at my tone. "Urgh… we'd be up till midnight getting everything done…"

"I'll buy you, both of you, anything you want for dinner," Rin offers, more like a beg.

I look at Nanase, who's looking rather overwhelmed. "Up to you… you can…uh, you're welcome come over to mine, to get this finished," it's suggestive, sure, and I ignore the sly eye Rin gives me.

Nanase nods, looking suddenly more interested.

"I love you," Rin almost cries, flinging himself at Nanase into a hug, crushing his lithe little body with his strong grip.

Nanase doesn't look too pleased, and pushes Rin away gently but firmly. Can't blame him, really. Rin's always been clingy.

We get Rin out of the office a few minutes later than intended, but both with a new determination. I turn to Nanase, who's stood up to rearrange his work space, and stalk over, tentatively placing my hand on the back of his hip. He tenses, but turns around.

"I think you deserve that reward now," I whisper, hotly, stooping to press my forehead against his. Really, anyone deserves some kind of compensation for dealing with Rin.

He looks up, anticipation written all over him, and I bring our mouths together again, sucking against his lips. I'm careful not to let him lick us anything into too exciting – we have a long way to go.

"So I've been a good boy, then?"

"What makes you think that? I'd say you're an _incredibly_ naughty boy," I tease, and give a peck against his lips as we part. "But incredible, none the less. Rin's very impressed with your swimming."

"Is that why you agreed?"

"Hmm… maybe," I won't say that not wanting to let Rin down didn't have _some_ baring on my willingness. "Probably not _exactly_ how I intended for us to spend the night together but – "

"What?"

_Oops. _

"Never mind," I kiss him again, and he brings a hand up to hold my arm. "No pressure."

Nanase is visibly nervous as we step out my car in my garage, and fails at shutting the door twice before I come around and take his clammy hand in one of mine and properly click the door closed with the other.

"Is the living room alright for you?" I ask, even though I know he's perfectly capable of working splayed out on a couch. We _should_ probably work at the dining table but… well. That limits contact a bit, doesn't it? "Make yourself comfortable. I'll get you some tea, kay?"

He nods and scuttles away from me, but I hear the familiar creak of leather as he sits down. It's almost definitely inappropriate for… whatever this is, whatever it's going to be… but I come up to the back of the couch and wrap my free arm around his front while my other stretches out to out his tea on the table in front, and then joins in holding onto him, my chin on his shoulder. He has his legs crossed, laptop balanced on them, and his tablet sat on the arm of the couch.

"All set?" I ask, and he turns a little towards me, obviously relaxing.

"Yeah."

"Good. I hope you don't mind if I go and take a shower? Help yourself to anything," he nods. "Good boy. I won't be long," I kiss his cheek, and his eye scrunches a little. Maybe it's too intimate.

Who am I kidding?

This is _entirely_ too intimate to begin with.

I don't bother with underwear when I change into my pyjamas after my shower. I know it's barely evening, but we're not in _work_, and I'm past the age where I really care what I'm wearing in my own home. Comfort has become a priority. I have the decency to wear a top, though.

"Progress?" I ask, sitting down at the other end of the couch, turned sideways with my knees up, leaning against the arm.

He nods and turns his screen. I still don't know how he manages to translate my visions so well. I'm almost disappointed this will be our last time working together. Rei was right. We _do_ make quite the team.

"Pace yourself. Don't want you burning out before we're done," I lightly caution, bringing up my own computer and retrieving the file he's sent me so I can start to annotate and bullshit my way through the technicalities.

He scowls, like I've patronised him, which I suppose I probably have. I laugh it off and nudge his thigh gently with my foot. Kid's cute when he's angry.

Rin arranges for our Thai to be delivered around seven, and we're definitely making good progress, but Nanase looks ready to drop. I stack our takeaway boxes on the table, and take his wrist when he goes to grab his laptop again.

"Let's take a little break?" I suggest, and he seems to consider it for a moment before sitting back in his seat. "Come here?" I try, watching the cogs tick behind his eyes as he scoots closer, deciding it's important for _him_ to make a move too. "There," he crawls up between my legs, and this is _much_ more than I'd expected, even more so when he lies down on my chest. I hold him loosely, so he can back up if he wants, but gently bring our lips together anyway.

He's more into it away from the office, opening his mouth almost immediately and bullying my lips with his tongue to gain access. I let him play and explore, moving just enough against him so he won't think I'm not interested. He slowly pulls away, panting a little, and rests down on my shoulder.

"How old are you?" he asks, confident and cheeky again.

"Thirty seven," I say, not allowing the hint of shame to creep into my voice. I'm not _bothered_ about my age, aging happens to everyone, I'm more worried that _he_ will be.

"_Really?!_" he looks up, close to my face, obviously looking for wrinkles and greys.

"_Yes_," I sigh. "Why, what were you thinking?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he teases, pushing his face into my neck.

"I'm curious," I admit. "Do you like that?"

"Like what?"

"That I'm practically old enough to be your _daddy_."

He blushes. That's a yes.

"I've never done this before, with someone so much younger."

"Done what?"

Is he doing this on purpose? His head lolls in my neck, kissing my collar bone. He can't be _that_ naïve, surely?

"Whatever _this_ is," I clarify, squeezing him.

"And what's that?"

"Don't play dumb with me, you little shit," I nibble at his ear.

"I'm not."

Oh. _Oh._ So he's _not_ just in it for a shag…?

I decide not to answer, moving into a kiss, because _that's_ a whole other dimension I hadn't even dared to think about. Pulling apart, I whisper to him, "We'll have to see, won't we?" I leave it open. Leave it up to him. "We should get back to it," I grumble, reality hitting me.

It hits Nanase too, like a train, and he curls into me, earning himself another squeeze.

"Just four left, right?" I ask.

He nods. We already have the plans drawn up, but it's been taking him longer and longer to get each design finished to his usual standard the more he overworks himself. So much so, that I've caught up to him with annotating, and now I'm waiting for him to finish the face of a kitten we decided on to advertise cat food. Maybe a tortoiseshell was too far a design choice… something black and white would have taken half the time.

"Nanase," I gently get his attention as he frowns in frustration at his tablet. "Do another one. Come back to that."

"But you're waiting."

"It's fine. As long as they're _drawn_ tonight it won't take me long to get them written up at some point over the weekend," and I've pretty much already resigned myself to having to work tomorrow _anyway_. An hour of annotating won't kill me, if I have to.

Nanase opens up a blank page and sets off on a mostly plain music store advertisement. Lots of black and grey and sharp lines he doesn't need to worry about. It still takes him longer than usual, but he sends it off to me with a relieved little sigh. When I've finished with it, I slide over and set my feet on the ground, sitting next to him to watch him work, not quite close enough to touch. He makes no comment, but after a few minutes scoots over an inch to feel the pressure of my thigh against his. I don't know what this means, in his head, but it seems to keep him going, so I let him do what he wants.

At eleven o'clock, we're at last back on the kitten. Erasing its whiskers for the billionth time, Nanase's head bonks on my bicep in defeat.

"Hey…"

He makes a disgruntled noise and lifts his laptop away, pushing it onto the table. I watch him, worried, preparing a little pep talk in my head when suddenly he's straddling my lap.

"You still have work to finish," I scold, though my hands are already on his waist.

"I don't _care_," he growls, and pushes in for a kiss, bumping our noses together. I pull him back.

"You _will_ care when you're still working on it on Sunday night."

He groans, and I let him kiss me this time, his determined little tongue having its way with me and his hands holding my shoulders. I suppose it's time we took another little break anyway.

"So you can have five minutes of… rest," _rest? This is _rest_?!_ "And then you'll finish that stupid cat," he grunts into my neck. "And then you can have a shower, or even a nice long soak in the tub to calm down, and then I'll put you to bed. Alright?"

"Bath?" he repeats. I nod. He looks pleased. "And bed…? With… you?"

"If… that's what you'd like, yes."

He stares at me. I can't read his blank expression, but it's obvious he's thinking. "I suppose…" he says eventually, and comes back to kissing.

It's softer and less needy, now. Lazy little licks and nips that leave the tips of his ears pink and a bulge in his pants. I brush my knuckles against it, but he backs away then. Not looking _regretful_ or _anxious_ as such. More like embarrassed.

At least he's motivated to finish that last work in record time.

I get it all written up and store the entire assignment on a memory stick, securing it in my wallet for safe keeping for Monday, while Nanase has slunk off to the bathroom.

I'm _so_ glad that's over.

I'd intended for us to be in bed before midnight, but Nanase hasn't made a peep out of the bathroom yet. Is it alright to go and knock? I'll give him another ten minutes…

After fifteen still no Nanase, I go upstairs and rap twice on the bathroom door. There's no response. Concerned, I turn the handle, glad he hasn't locked it.

"Are you alright?" I ask as I push in, having to step around the door to see him.

Erm… I _think_ he's alright. He looks pretty blissed out, anyway.

"Nanase?" I keep my eyes on his face, trying to behave.

"Hmm?" he looks up at me, all smiley, at least as smiley as I've ever seen him.

"Ready for bed?"

"I guess," he shrugs, and holds his arms out.

Does he expect me to…? I inch closer, sliding my arms under his. He doesn't pull away, leaning into me instead, resting his head over my shoulder.

"I'm not carrying you," I scold, because, well, I'm just _not_.

"Aw…" he appears genuinely put out.

I let go and step back, turning to the cupboard where I keep my towels. "Reckon you can find the bedroom?"

"Mm," he grunts, and splashes his face. Shaking his hair out, he looks a little more aware of his surroundings, and suddenly looks a bit sheepish.

"I'll leave some things of Rin's outside the door, alright?" Rin was always leaving things strewn around whenever he was too lazy to go home. He took up half the drawer space in the spare bedroom.

Speaking of spare bedrooms, I hoped Nanase was still on board with sleeping with me.

Sleeping sleeping. Just sleeping. However _tempting_ the little thing might be right now, all placid and a little bit clingy, we're up at eight, and Rin would kill me if I sent his protégé to a tournament with a sore ass.

I get us both a glass of water. It's been a while since the other bedside table has had a glass sat on it. It's one of those little domestic things you start to miss. I sit on the edge of the bed, waiting. Not for long, though, because there's the soft padding of feet sneaking down the hallway.

"Second door," I call out softly, and he pushes it open. "Hey," I smile and hold out my hands and he tiptoes over, climbing straight into my lap.

"I'm tired," he mumbles.

"Mm, you're cute when you're tired," I kiss his lips, just enough force to keep him awake. "Still alright sharing with me?"

"You're warm," it's not really an answer, but I suppose it'll do.

I kiss him just for a bit more, because it's nice, just getting to kiss someone, still clothed, but with the obvious promise of _more_, providing Nanase doesn't realise what an _awful_ situation this is in the morning and never speaks to me again… I stick my tongue in his mouth to calm my nerves.

Eventually, he pulls apart with a sleepy sigh, and I push him back to his feet so we can both get in under the covers. He does exactly as I expect with lying away, because though he seems to like kissing, he's not particularly affectionate. Nor am I, under normal circumstances, but Nanase is… something else. Plus, _cuddling_ would _definitely_ make this even more of a bad idea.

I wake up with him pressed to my side all the same, though, and reach over him to knock the alarm off. I look down at him, then, eyes just blinking open and looking so _small_ trying to hide under my arm, as if he belongs there

"Time to get you up," and I realise I'm _still_ using this strange tone of voice with him, like I'm treating him like a child, a little thing to be loved and looked after.

Nanase, I'm sure, is perfectly capable of looking after himself. I need to cut this shit out. Especially before Rin overhears.

There's a muffled "no" pressed into my ribs, and he throws an arm over me in refusal.

"Yes," I insist, sitting up and pulling him with me. He glares through sleep filled eyes.

"You're annoying," he growls, all the while pushing his forehead into my shoulder, but he suddenly snaps up, giving a very sorry look. "Your shoulder…"

"Is fine," I soothe. "It's not like you're heavy, anyway," I tease, brushing my thumb over his ribs. "But at least you're awake now."

He grunts, looking displeased. I move in for a kiss, but he puts his hand up between us and covers my mouth. "Clean your teeth," he grumbles.

I push past his hand and kiss his cheek instead.

"You're a brat. Go on, Rin'll be here within the hour. And I'm sure you've seen what he's like when he gets all excited about something."

Nanase's eye roll shows he understands, and he pushes out of bed with a slight stagger.

He's surprisingly calm over breakfast, even if I _do_ have to force the plate of eggs under his nose.

"You're very relaxed… not nervous about the competition?" I ask him.

He shrugs and swallows. "I don't really care about competition."

"Well, if what Rin says is true, I'm sure you'll do great."

"And what does Rin say?" he cocks his head, and there's that little hint of an ego again.

"Maybe I'll tell you later, if you live up to expectations."

He quickly looks back to his food and eats a bit more, not looking up once. "Are you coming to watch?" he quietly asks.

"If… you don't mind, I would like to see you swim."

"Was it a big deal for you? Swimming, I mean."

I swallow my food suddenly feeling sick. "Erm… a bit. I was definitely upset when I couldn't compete anymore."

"Then I'm probably going to disappoint you…" he says to his plate, barely a whisper.

I don't know what that can possibly mean, but he looks hurt and uncomfortable, and as much as I'd like to reach out to him, I get the feeling I wouldn't be appreciated. Rin comes in, then, as a painful reminder that I once gave him a front door key, for "emergencies". He never fails to abuse that power.

He bounces into the dining room and his face lights up like he's just been given a puppy at Christmas when he sees Nanase, but then his eyes narrow at me accusingly.

"You're still in one piece, right Haru?" he asks, like he's looking him over for wounds.

I roll my eyes. "He's _fine_,"

"I wouldn't say _fine_," Nanase chimes in. "I'm tired."

"Sousuke!" Rin growls, like it's my fault, which it always seems to be. Though in his head, it's easy to see what he's thinking.

And he looks somewhere between furious and impressed. Let's let him think, shall we?

"It doesn't start till eleven… why can't I go back to bed?" Nanase almost whines.

"Because registration starts at nine and you have teammates competing all morning. Should have thought of _that_ before you stayed up all night," Rin turns his scold to his student, now. Arms folded, bristled like a cat that's been stood on.

"It's not like I had much choice," Nanase shoots me a glare and Rin's eyes widen in horror, and he's obviously about to blow a fuse, but Nanase carries on. "Someone was snoring," he grumbles.

I'd like to remind Rin that the _actual_ reason we're both a bit sluggish this morning is because we were up finishing all that damn work, not that Rin's _ever_ had a late working night in his life. He wouldn't understand, and it's not worth my breath, so I just sigh and give Nanase a nudge on the shoulder.

"Hands off!" Rin yells, slapping my hand down. "I don't need damaged goods, thank you!"

"Oh, leave him alone," I snort. "Come on, kid," the pet name slips out, but he doesn't look bothered.

I wink at Rin over my shoulder as I'm following Nanase out of the dining room. I shouldn't be a jerk, but it's Rin.

He flops face down on the bed and groans as soon as we're in my bedroom, and it's both hilarious and adorable at the same time. He rolls over, wiping his hands down his face and glares at me.

"Why'd you make him think we had sex?" he whines, a proper whine this time, not just his ever emotionless tone.

"You should have just denied it," I tell him.

"No point if that's gonna change, though," he mumbles, low, like he's musing mostly to himself.

Erm… what?

"He's just teasing, anyway. He knows I wouldn't… do that to you before a competition."

"I don't care about competition," he repeats. "You do, though…" he says, watching me.

"A story for another time," I dismiss. "Come on, get dressed and…" I pull him up, back to his feet. "Good luck."

We kiss, slow and soft. Tender. And he feels all melted in my arms as I hold him loosely by the waist. "Mmm," he moans. "Don't need it."

Rin somehow manages to wangle me a seat with him and the team, using lots of name drops and his usual charm and swagger. Nanase comes out from the lockers in his jammers and a team tracksuit top and sends me a curious look, but ultimately sits with some of his team members. Probably for the best, really.

He looks disinterested and bored throughout the first few heats, and makes a barely half-hearted attempt at cheering for his teammates with the rest of the group.

"Do you want to come poolside?" Rin asks me when it's time for Nanase's 200m Free race.

"Erm…" I hesitate. "No, thanks."

"Suit yourself. Though you've got a pretty good view up here anyway," he grins.

I can't quite believe what I'm seeing when Nanase soars through the air and slips into the water with barely even a ripple his dive is so perfect. It's almost like he's _not swimming_ with the way he glides through the water. He doesn't immediately take the lead, but unless someone else pulls out a miracle, I can see after the first turn how he's just minutely increasing in speed with each stroke. He's not _powerful_ with his stroke, he doesn't have the muscle mass for that, it's just pure talent carrying him forwards. His technique isn't even spot on, it's just…

He wins, unsurprisingly. And makes even more of a sensation when he immediately soars ahead in the 100m. He doesn't hold back at all. But even when the crowd is cheering his name, he barely glances at the results board before disappearing through the tunnel into the locker room, and he's the first one to make his way to re-join the rest of the team and –

"Can I sit here?" I look up and see none other than the man himself, standing beside me and eyeing up Rin's seat. Rin's down poolside with his butterfly swimmers anyway.

"Sure."

There's a towel around his bare shoulders, but he's still pretty much dripping wet, and still wearing his jammers and just loosely holding his jacket between his knees.

"Aren't you getting changed?" I ask him.

He looks down, like he's only just realising he's half naked, and shakes his head. "When there's less people in the lockers…"

"Shy?" I tease, running my eyes over him.

"Don't really like crowds…" he looks up at me, and I'm still taking in the view. "Pervert," he scoffs.

There's a thickness in the air. It's obvious he's waiting for me to comment on the race. And he's so tense, like he's possibly done something wrong, and I'm not sure how to approach it.

"You're a very good swimmer," I say eventually. I don't mention the win. I don't even want to _think_ about this feeling of pride that's welling up in me.

"Yeah…" he breathes, sullen, and I frown.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't like competitions…"

Ha. Well, I guess they're boring for him, with that amount of talent but… there's something else. Something that has nothing to do with his ego. Something in the way he bounces his knee that shows how he _really_ doesn't want to be here.

"Why are you on the team, then?" I don't mean to sound as accusing as I do.

"So I can swim," he says simply.

The silence sits heavy for a while. It's almost admirable, in its own special way, how he genuinely puts such little standing in the two medals Rin is holding onto for him. I remember his comment, how I'd be _disappointed_ in him, and he obviously meant this, meant this attitude.

"I'm not disappointed in you," I tell him softly, and bump his knee with mine. "You're a _very_ good swimmer, though…"

"I only swim Free."

He doesn't just mean freestyle.

He's equally as impressive in the relay later in the afternoon, although the team don't manage to place in the finals that are being held tomorrow. Nanase doesn't look at all upset, though. A bad dive from their breaststroke swimmer knocked off a few seconds, and the butterfly swimmer wasn't nearly as fast as he should have been for the standard. Rin looks radiant all the same, though. He follows Nanase back into the stands, chatting his ear off, not even aware Nanase isn't listening as he reminisces about his old relay runs.

"So are you coming out with us to celebrate?" Rin asks the both of us, grinning wildly. It's hardly going to be a wild night, though, because the breast and backstroke races are still to come tomorrow.

"Think I'll pass," I'm too old for college parties anyway.

"I'm going with him," is all Nanase says, eyes fixed on me.

"Cheeky," but he just looks at me, impatient to get going. "See you later, Rin."

"Bye, guys. Don't forget I still need him functional for practice on Monday!" he calls, too loudly, attracting some sniggering smirks.

I'm glad the ride home is only short, because it's too quiet, even for Nanase. Though he has less trouble getting out of the car this time.

"I've got your bag," I tell him as I take it out of the boot. "Can I get you anything?" I come by his side and press a hand into the small of his back. It's supposed to be encouraging.

"Shower?" he asks, sort of like he doesn't really want to. I nod. That's fine. He reeks of pool anyway, and the hot water will do his muscles good.

"You're not hungry?" I certainly am.

"A bit but…" he makes a small notion with his head. It's that competition feeling. The whole atmosphere can be a bit of a kick to your appetite, and even Nanase feels it.

"Mm, alright. Do you want to leave your clothes out and I'll get them washed for tomorrow for you?" he looks wary. "I was going to change back into something comfy, anyway. I'm not saying you have to sit around naked with me all night," but I'm not going to stop him if that's what he wants.

I wait for him in the lounge, there's not much on telly but it's enough to hold my attention so I don't stare _too_ much when he sneaks in, shirtless, shoulders still a little damp from his hair but he's brought a towel with him to fix that. He comes over and sits close. Not _too_ close, but definitely intentionally close, probably waiting for me to close the gap. It's a reminder that he really is young, he's just learning the little signals from other people that mean "it's ok, I want you too," and it's obvious he doesn't quite trust his interpretation yet.

But that's ok. I suppose that's my role here: to make him feel comfortable. Especially if anything _else_ is going to happen.

"Let me," I prise the towel from his hands, not giving him chance to think about it too much, and dry off the water on his back and shoulders before doing a more thorough job of his hair. He relaxes, enough that when I toss the towel away and just run my fingers through his hair, he tilts his head back, giving me a delectable view of his neck.

A neck that's definitely going to get kissed in a minute. Right this minute, actually.

I move my head in closer, brushing my nose against his as a warning, and start with a kiss on his lips, turning him to jelly and he brings one hand up to hold onto me. I slide my own down his back, moving one along his outer thigh and hook my fingers under it. Leaning back, I lift him a little and drag his leg over my own, so he's straddling my lap again, and then leave his lips to kiss down his neck.

He pulls away, and comes back to my mouth, turning it up a notch and making it deeper than we've kissed before, breathing through his nose and arching his back as I run my hands up and down his sides. He holds onto my shoulders, fingers just barely curling into the fabric of my top.

"So have you thought about your options? About what you want?" I ask him, trying to be gentle but my voice comes out rough.

"You," is all he says, not even pausing for breath and he comes right back to kissing.

I take his cheek in one hand to pull him away just a bit, so I can talk. "And what do you want me to do?"

He shrugs. And this is _not_ a good time for his incessant shrugging habit to show itself again. He apparently senses my displeasure. "What do you normally do with… something like this?"

"Well, the next step might be to get your shirt off, but you've already skipped that step."

"So it's only fair if I take yours off, too, right?"

Seems fair to me.

Shirt gone, he adjusts himself in my lap so he can run his hands all over my front, just touching, little face all fascinated and excited. He wraps his arms around my neck and kisses again, nothing with even a hint of hesitation. I run one hand down to his ass, dipping under the elastic to teas the top of his crack, and then palming at the firm flesh through his pants. His breath hitches in the kiss, and I take it as permission to get inside. Turns out he's not wearing underwear.

And as it happens, neither am I.

I run one thick finger down his crack, initiating a pleasured yelp and an accidental tooth in my lip. He soldiers on though, licking the little bite just enough to show he's sorry.

"Now what?"

"I think this is the part where we should be going upstairs, don't you?"

"I… ah… yes?" he stammers.

And then, something hits me.

"Nana-"

"Haru," he corrects. And that's fair enough, really.

"Haru. Have you… done this before?"

His cheeks tinge pink and he tries to hide in my neck, not that I let him. This is important.

"Uh… not, you know, _all the way_."

Right then. Well. That probably shouldn't turn me on the way it does.

"No pressure," I reassure, because however much I might want it, especially _now_, this is much more of a big deal to him than me.

"I want to, though."

"You wouldn't rather have your first time with someone… significant?"

He shrugs. I need to put a stop to that. "I wouldn't say you're _in_significant and… why wouldn't I want to have my first time with someone who knows what he's doing?"

I can see his point. So can my cock.

I give him another kiss and coax him to stand up, giving him a playful smack on his ass.

It's always a bit weird, this part, this walking to the bedroom with every intention of being naked in the next five minutes. Putting in a few hours at the gym each week suddenly feels like a brilliant idea, especially when I grab hold of Nanase's… Haru's tiny little waist and gather him up to my chest, tossing him just lightly to the middle of the bed.

He yelps in surprise, just a startled little noise bubbling up from his throat, but he sits back against the headboard and I shuffle close, taking each of his legs in my hands and spreading them, bending them up by the knee and I sit between them and spread my legs around him as well, coming back in for a kiss and he gasps, opening his mouth up for me and I delve in, using force now, and he submits so easily under my tongue.

"So you like this, then?" I ask, against his mouth.

"What?" and it's half for clarification, half because he wasn't really listening.

"Letting me be in control," I don't want to say _dominated_, that might make him worry.

"I… suppose," he decides.

"Do you want a safe-word?"

"Do I _need_ a safe-word?"

I stroke his cheek, smoothing away that little jolt of nervousness. "Just in case you don't like anything."

He shrugs, and I put my hands on his shoulders so he can't do it again. "Mackerel," he states blandly, apparently agreeing.

I kiss him again and let him go, moving my hands down to his waist and playing with the hem of Rin's slightly-too-big pyjama pants. I give him a second, just in case, and then start to slide them down, moving back as I go and dragging my fingers all the way to the tips of his toes before I throw them to the side.

He's hard, hard as anything I've ever seen, which is completely appropriate for a nineteen year old virgin, really, but when your last partner was also barely on the right side of forty, and you're both drunk and just doing it for the sake of doing it, it's nice to have this, this excitement, this absolute _want_.

I bring his knees up again, spread wide enough that I can kneel between them, and give the inside of each of his knees a little kiss, just looking. He's not _shy_, but he's a bit embarrassed.

"You're gorgeous. All of you," I assure him.

I kiss down his inner thigh, and his breath gets more ragged the closer I get to his crotch. Again, I give him a second to back out, though I highly doubt he will at this point, and give a long lick up the junction between his thigh and pelvis, before getting comfortable on my stomach and dragging him down a bit so I have better access to _everything_ my face is just inches from, hooking my arms around his legs so I can push them up, rolling him on his flexible spine so his hole is proudly displayed for me. He stays quiet, and I glance up to see him looking thoughtful, trying to process every new sensation I'm assaulting him with. I blow on his perineum and his cock jumps a little, releasing a drop that I can't resist ducking down to lick up.

The almost pained sound moan that rips through him is more than enough encouragement for me to give more little licks, just teasing his slit for a second while he calms himself down. I lick down his shaft, and suck each of his balls into my mouth, and then descend with my tongue further, and finish with a kiss against his little virgin hole.

He yelps again, and his whole body convulses.

"That ok?" I ask him. He takes a breath.

"If… you're ok."

I sigh, kissing his inner thigh again. "It's not about me. If you're not into that, I'll stop."

Somehow, even with his spine curled up, he manages to fucking _shrug_, "Dunno if I like it yet, do I?"

Well, let's find out then, shall we?

I start back at his slit again, taking my time and giving every inch equal attention. Not teasing, that wouldn't be fair. Not for his first time, anyway. Just pampering, getting him comfortable, so relaxed that he moans and whimpers without even trying to get control of himself. He's practically made a puddle on his stomach by the time I get to kissing his ass again.

I lick over the outside plenty, getting him slick and messy so that when I push my tongue in, he hardly even tenses with the intrusion. His hand comes down to hold my shoulder when I start to push in further, though, so I stop while he squeezes, letting him get used to it. It's uncomfortable for me, but only lasts a few seconds until he releases his grip and strokes his thumb over where he's squeezed, even though he hasn't hurt me. I take it as my signal to carry on.

He's so wet from my tongue that I don't even bother reaching for the lube when I go to push the tip of my pinky finger in. He gasps at the intrusion and throws his arms over his face, unconsciously pushing his hips up to meet me.

"Good boy," I coo, and he moans a little louder. He likes praise, apparently, even if he won't let on when he's being praised for his art or his swimming.

I swirl my finger around, pushing against his walls to begin to open him up, and then swap it for my chunkier index finger, and repeat the process until my middle finger is buried inside of him and pumping in and out while I'm still licking around the outside.

"Gon- aaahh – gonna cum," he struggles to say through his gasps.

I keep my finger pumping but bring my licks back to his head, sucking him in just briefly and he twitches, desperately close.

"Go on, baby," I encourage, and that's all he needs.

I lick it up off his stomach while he pants, giving him a few moments to come down from his high. I don't even need to remind myself that he's _nineteen_. The party is definitely not over yet.

I move up his body with my gentle kisses, trying not to overly sensitise him with anything, even though my finger is still knuckle deep.

"You good?" I ask, closer to his ear than he was expecting. He still his both arms thrown over his face, but brings one down to clumsily hang around my shoulders, and moves the other behind his head so he can look down at me. "It's ok, we can take five if you want."

He doesn't say anything, just stares at me with his big, beautiful eyes. I begin to pull my finger out, but he squeezes tightly around me and frowns. That would be a no, then.

I take the lube from my bedside drawer and pull my finger all the way out, much to his dismay, and I scold his impatience with a little nip to his knee. I slick my fingers and run some around his entrance, spreading it on his insides with my index finger which slips in so _easily_ now, and then slowly push in with my middle as well.

He arches up, obviously feeling a burn as he struggles to accommodate me, but he breathes out and relaxes quickly, squeezing and shuffling himself as he gets used to it. When he stills, I slide them slowly in and out a few times, and then twist and spread to loosen him further, not yet focusing on finding his sweet spot, because that _might_ just be too much for him just yet.

"Another," he demands, much more coherent than expected after such an intense orgasm.

I move in to lick him again, hoping to soothe any pain while I push my forefinger in. He gasps, and takes a few deep breaths, but he's definitely prepared for it, at least mentally. He's rock hard again, too. I suck him in as deep as I can when I pump all three fingers in and out, continuously spreading them to get him as loose as possible.

There's not much more I can do for him now besides breaking out a large toy, and that might just ruin the intimacy a little.

"How do you feel?" I ask, punctuating with a kiss to his thigh, just where the muscles connect. I decide I like this spot. I'll make my mark on it, later.

"Hot," he breathes, probably taking my question a bit too literally. He seems to notice, too, and corrects himself. "Ready as I'll ever be."

I pull out of him entirely with a wet squelch and positively _irritated_ groan and kneel between his legs again. Simultaneously, our eyes look towards my crotch, and my pyjamas practically _ruined_ with the wet spot. His eyes flash and he looks hard at me, expecting. I take that as my cue to disrobe completely.

His face remains impassive as my cock springs up to smack my stomach with a wet, fleshy _slap_. Completely neglected, I let him reach down and wrap his hand around, letting him gauge the thickness by touching his thumb to his fingers, and keeping hold he looks up at me, blinking. His hands are clammy, but feel _so good_ as he slides up and down, and dips his thumb into my leaking slit like a professional. It's obvious we won't need much foreplay on my part.

"Only if you're sure," I promise, nose into his cheek and struggling not to pant to heavily while he strokes me.

"I'm sure," his tone is blunt and confident, and I get the feeling he never does _anything_ unless he really wants to, whatever impression he might have given off earlier with hating competitions, there's obviously _something_ in it for him.

"It'll probably be easier if you turn around."

"I want to face you, though."

He means he wants to watch me go to pieces inside of him. I can tell by that mischievous little glint in his eye.

"Alright then. Scoot up."

I pat him on the side of the hip and take his place sitting in the middle of the bed, leaning my shoulders back against the headboard, and he quickly gets the hint and straddles me.

"There's condoms in the top drawer," I direct, and he moves swiftly without comment, even adding a squirt of lube and slicking me up. After quickly wiping my face on a tissue and popping a mint in my mouth, I hold out my fingers for a squeeze and reach between his legs to give him a final coating. "Go as slow as you need."

And that's it. I've handed over the reins. This is all up to him now.

He goes to bring his feet up into a crouch, but I push him back, setting his knees either side of my hips. Just the feel of my tip brushing along his crack makes me moan a little. He holds onto my shoulders to steady himself, and starts trying to sink down, but results in merely sliding my length up between his cheeks, and even _that_ is something worth remembering. I hold one hand tight on his waist, and use my other to help guide him down, keeping hold of myself while he finally gets the tip in.

He stops immediately, nothing but pure pain on his face, he doesn't even try to mask it.

I turn my head to kiss at his wrists, because it's all I can reach, but Haru decides that's not enough and leans forward to kiss my lips, desperately seeking for me to soothe him, even though the movement makes him sink another inch down on my cock.

I'm deep enough in now that I can let go of my shaft and hold him properly, using the warmth of my hand to rub his lower back, hoping to ease some of the pain that way too, but all he ultimately needs is some time to adjust.

Slowly, and with continuous kisses, he gets himself fully seated in my lap and we share a moan into each other's mouths. When he starts trying to rise up again, I push him to sit up and hold his hips, guiding him to grind down on me instead.

"Good, you're _so_ good, Haru," I pant, and he begins to speed up, no longer needing my help.

I take one hand off him to hold his leaking cock, and now's probably the time to try and find that sweet spot of his. I give an experimental thrust upwards, and when he throws his head back with just how _deep_ it is, I know I'm find to carry on. I shuffle down the bed just an inch more, angling myself perfectly inside him and buck up, hard, on his next grind down and _oh, the noise_ he lets out. I think he might have actually _sobbed_. All I can do is grin, but the pleasure is really starting to get the best of me, too, so I stop playing around and lose myself to my animal instincts and just _fuck him_.

He's practically twitching in my hand, so close to cumming, but I hold him tight at the base. I'm not far off, either, so I make him wait until I'm ready to join him. When I know I'm just seconds away, I pump him in earnest and he sprays all over my chest, back arched and squeezing tight around my cock, and I can't hold back, thrusting up through my orgasm almost spastically.

He flops forwards onto my chest and lies there panting for a few moments while I stroke up and down his sides. Gripping the inside of his thighs, I prise him off me, half-hard cock slipping out with a _plop_ and help him lie down comfortably beside me. I clean us both up, being extra gentle as I mop up the wetness around his hole, and settle down with him. We're both too hot for a blanket, probably too hot to even touch, but that doesn't stop him shifting over and nestling his head against my chest.

When I've caught my breath, I roll him off me and try to slide away without disturbing him, but he shoots out a hand to grab my wrist.

"I'll be back in a second," I promise.

And true to my word I return as quickly as possible with water and our remaining grapes. It's dinner time back in the real world, but Haru's clearly too passed out for a big meal. But considering he's not eaten since _breakfast_ and he's not only just been completely fucked out but swam two hard races as well today, he really should eat something.

I force him to sit up so he can drink, and hold my arm around him supportively while he does the best impression of jelly I've ever seen. He's smiling, though, completely content to be petted and pampered and take grapes from between my teeth.

"What happens now?" he asks, tone too mellow for the true seriousness of the question.

"We… see how things go."

It's still open, he's still free to back out, but it also holds the promise that we'll get to do this again.


	2. I Still Haven't Thought Of Anything

I don't know how long I spend in this perfectly peaceful state, but it's definitely not long enough. While I'm conscious, Sousuke's large hands, roughed a little with age, rub over my body in aimless patterns, warming everything under them until I'm tingling with cold wherever he isn't touching. He brings his mouth towards mine, a fat, juicy grape held between his teeth and nudges my lips apart with it until I accept it from him, and then covers my lips in light little kisses when I've finished eating it.

When I've had enough of them, I roll my face into the crook of his neck so he can't deliver any more and he wraps both arms tight over my back, warming all the aches that are starting to take hold.

I'm semi-aware of him shuffling us around and coaxing me under the quilt, and I immediately make use of his chest as a pillow. He still works out, it's obvious, he's covered in years of perfect muscle, and his broad chest and shoulders are considerably bulky, but he's not bulging, it's still soft enough to sink into.

He might whisper something, or it might just be the natural rumble of his chest I can hear, but he definitely chuckles a little and I scold him for jostling me by trying to bite on his pec, but ultimately just end up leaving a little hicky. I definitely hear him call me 'cheeky' again, but he returns to stroking me all over anyway.

At some point I notice I'm curled more into the plush duvet than to him, but I can still feel his presence there. Big and warm, probably watching me pass out with some silly smirk of affection plastered on his face.

When I regain total consciousness, I'm distinctly alone, and it takes my senses a minute to adjust, like I've been asleep for days, even though according to the clock it's only been a couple of hours.

There's the unmistakable clanking, clattering sound of a cast iron pan making its escape and scuttling along a tiled floor, and I come to the conclusion that that's what's woken me up.

Sitting up, I find clean underwear and pyjamas (probably more of Rin's) sitting on the other pillow. Experimentally, I test my limbs and tentatively slide out of bed. There's an aching, hollow feeling between my legs, but I suppose I shouldn't have expected anything less.

"And _you!_" Sousuke rounds on the toaster with unbridled hatred. "Don't you even fucking _start!_"

I stand in the kitchen doorway, observing his rant. He throws two slices of blackened bread in the bin and while he's facing away I cross the room and lean against the counter, where he's bound to look when he turns back.

"Abusing your appliances?" I ask, feeling a lilt in my voice that isn't usually there.

Sousuke almost drops the fresh slices of bread he's just grabbed when he stops dead in his tracks and sees me. I can't help but smirk.

"Hello," he coughs out, turning red and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, like he's just lost twenty years of maturity. It only takes a second for him to bounce back though, and he tosses the bread onto the cutting board, swaggering over in a way he's probably not aware of, just his natural gait with years of learning to be imposing, to abuse his stature.

"Hi," my voice fails me, coming out quiet and soft, like a squeak.

He's standing right in front of me, tilting his head down with a sappy smile, sort of patronising with how awed he looks. His hands twitch at his sides, like he's going to reach out, and as the silence draws on he looks increasingly nervous, and his hands still. It's like, even after what we've just done, he's waiting for permission to touch me.

I sigh and bring my arms around his neck, and that gets him going, big, warm hands pushing the bottom of the baggy tank top aside and running across my stomach and around to my back, stooping to rest his forehead against mine.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, definitely embarrassed.

"You know… pretty much how I expected to," I shrug. It's a weird mix of soreness and emptiness sitting right next to this feeling of absolute _yes_ that my body doesn't really know how to process.

"Good?" he presses, apparently disliking how vague my answer was.

"Good," I assure, and he comes down to kiss me. Nothing hot or heated, just caring and pleased.

"I was going to make you some supper."

Well at least he wasn't just trying to start a fight with the poor toaster.

"Having trouble?"

"Cooking's not… _exactly_ my forte… and I'm a bit…" I'm starting to wonder who the inexperienced one is, he's acting so awkward and tentative, "_distracted_."

"That's not good for productivity in the long run," I playfully scold, surprised how easy the words come, how easy it is to open up to him.

But I suppose I've _already_ been opened up to him. There's nothing left to hide, now.

"I'll do it," I offer, and he looks rightfully offended at being dismissed. "You can do the toast… you know, if you think the two of you can get along."

"Cheeky," but he kisses me again and we both drop our holds to get to work.

I forage his cupboards and find a hash of ingredients, nothing really catered to any particular _recipe_, so we end up having noodles with slices of spicy sausage and a creamy tomato sauce, served on top of the toast he seemed so desperate to feed me. He'd probably grumble something about _carbs_ if I were to ask why. I dread to think what he intended to rustle up to serve it with.

"Full of little talents, aren't you?" he coos, loading the dishwasher.

Why a single man needs a dishwasher, I'll never know.

I hum in response. Talking would be too much effort. And I'm not really sure what to say anyway. I move up behind him and press my face in between his shoulder blades, lightly clutching at the shirt on the sides of his waist. He ignores me, just for a moment, while he wipes the counter top down, like there's nothing more natural than me clinging to his back. He turns around and leans back, gathering me into a hug that brings me up onto my tiptoes so I can snuggle my face into his neck, and sways us just a little.

"Do you want to go and watch TV or a movie or something before bed?" it's so apparent that I'm staying the night neither one of us has even bothered to question it. "Anything you want."

"Just a bath."

He smiles at that, like it's the most endearing thing he's ever heard, "Absolutely."

I'm left to lean against the bathroom wall while Sousuke goes about filling the bath, setting some towels on the side, even pouring some soothing salts into the water, which is an appreciated little touch. It's a bit… weird though. This being _waited_ upon. He's being so gentle and caring it sort of makes me suspicious he's apologising for something.

"Let me help?" he asks, stepping forwards.

Apparently _help_ entails peeling me out of my borrowed pyjamas and subconsciously licking his lips like I'm something to eat. Though if his little kinks are anything to go by, I probably _am_. I sink into the warm water and close my eyes, ignoring him as much as I can while he sits on the closed toilet seat, watching me. The water feels amazing, kissing away aches and pains I hadn't even realised were fully there yet. I lose myself in relaxation when a real kiss drags me out of it.

"Look like you're falling asleep there," Sousuke says, voice low and soft.

I can't muster up words, just drape my arms around his neck in a repeat from last night, probably soaking him through, and he just chuckles, rumbly and warm against my ear.

"Alright then."

For a moment, I don't know what he's talking about, but the next I'm being dragged out of the bath and brought tight to his chest. He manages to hold me up with one arm and grab a towel with the other, probably his injured shoulder.

"What are you doing?" I ask, when he sits me on top of his dresser and begins to dry me off, gentle little pats and circles rubbed with the towel, like anything more would break me.

He falters then, something flashing across his face. "Just… uh, looking after you. Do want me to stop."

I shake my head. It's nice, being fawned over. He chuckles and pulls me back down into his arms, but sets my feet back on the ground.

I tug at his top. These clothes need to go. He laughs at me.

"Just because _you're_ up for a second round doesn't mean _I _am," he takes hold of my hardening cock and strokes it to full attention, despite what he's just said.

"Sorry, it's just…" I babble, I can't help it, it's just because Sousuke's _right there. _"It's all your fault," I accuse, crossing my arms.

"So excitable," he whispers, running his thumb over my slit.

"Don't be mean," I whine.

"Then stop being so tempting," he licks against my ear.

"Pervert."

He sits on the bed, lying out comfortably, and pats the space beside him. I ignore it, crawling into his lap instead and straddling him with my knees. It's a bit painful, spreading my legs and stretching my hole, but I can deal with it.

"Ah ah ah, behave, little one," he coos.

"I'm not a baby," I pout, because that's what he's doing with all this 'looking after' stuff.

"Hmm, no," he agrees, looking thoughtful as he strokes down my back. "But you _are_, compared to me, anyway."

"You're not old," he's _mature_, _responsible_, and I like that. He's so confident and commanding and I _need_ it.

He laughs again. "Oh, Haru, with your little baby face I'm sure some people would consider _arresting_ me just for looking at you the way I do."

"Are you into it, then?" I ask, because he's not really explained this part yet. "The whole… age thing?"

He pauses, looking me over, eyes trailing down to my straining cock and he smirks. "I'm not… against it," he decides. "But," his eyes flicker up, looking steadily at my face, "it still depends on how far you want to take this."

He keeps saying things like that and _I don't know what he means_.

He must catch my confusion, because next he's cupping my cheek, "You don't have to decide anything yet, we're still getting to know each other."

I hum a non-response, chewing my lip, suddenly feeling exposed and a bit ridiculous, throwing my naked self into his lap like an attention seeking child. I move off him to the side and slide under the quilt. He makes no move to stop me, just watches, still with this soft little smile he can't seem to control.

"Are you going back to sleep?" he asks.

"Just resting," I answer.

"Do you mind if I put the TV on?"

I frown at him. "It's your house."

"Let me know if it's keeping you up, alright?" he looks like he's going to reach out again, but ultimately reaches right over me to grab the controllers.

It's a bit weird, just lying here next to him with him largely ignoring me, chuckling occasionally at the sitcom he's watching. For whatever reason, I'd expected him to be closer, holding me, carrying on with his relentless affection. After a while of just doing _nothing_, I roll over and flop my arm over him.

His whole body tenses and I retreat, apparently having made a mistake. I can feel him looking at me and shut my eyes.

"Haru…" I blink up at him, feeling like an idiot. "Do you want to cuddle?"

Yes, if that's the apparent _name_ that shit has to have, but not if he's going to make it so embarrassing. The silence is starting to become painful, even though it's all my fault for just lying here, not moving or responding.

Slowly, Sousuke slides under the covers and sits up next to me, sliding his nearest arm down my shoulders. He just sort of hovers it there, just touching, and I get the hint that I'm supposed to make up the space between us. So I do, moving over as quickly as possible and nestling into his stomach and throwing my arm back over him. I feel him chuckle and he brings his other arm around me and holds tighter with them both.

"Never took you for a cuddler," he muses, and starts to trace little patterns on the back of my neck.

He's right, really. I've never been the most _affectionate_ of people, much to the dismay of the last and only person who'd tried to date me.

"Just want to," I mutter, a little defensively, and close my eyes.

"Don't be embarrassed. It's cute."

It's most definitely _not_ cute.

"_You're_ cute," he continues, and it's only getting worse. He ploughs on. "So pretty, and soft, and _delicate_."

"I'm _not_ delicate."

"And _sensitive_," he teases, and scoots down a bit, and I think he's just doing it to get closer, but then his hand slides around my front and grabs my cock. It takes just a few seconds of attention before I'm ready and weeping for him. "_Definitely _sensitive."

He lets go. "Don't _tease_," I whine. "Yamaza –"

"Oh, Haru, honey," he interrupts, flinging out another pet name like it's nothing. "I had my _tongue_ in your _ass_ not five hours ago. I think we're a bit past the point of pleasantries," he laughs.

Perhaps he has a point.

I try to continue my rant, but he quickly takes hold of my cock again and all I can do is moan.

"I thought you said you weren't up for anything else?"

"Mm, guess I'll have to work on my stamina if I'm going to have you around," he tries to joke, but mostly sounds frustrated with himself. "Do you want me to get you off before bed?"

As if that's even a question.

He lies down in bed completely and folds the quilt back a bit, so our chests are exposed. He's still very overdressed.

"Come here, then," he pats his chest, so I move my head to it. "No, silly," he coos, "Sit up here. I'll suck you off."

I wish he wouldn't just say it like that.

"Oh, to be young," he praises when I've seated myself on him, boner smacking him a little in the face as I shift. "I've not had this reaction in a _while_."

He licks up the beads already leaking from my head, as if trying to keep me occupied while he adjusts my position to where he can properly angle himself to swallow me down.

And when he does, it brings a whole new meaning to the phrase _'swallow me down_', because down doesn't even cut it. I'm as far in his face as he was in my ass earlier. It's all I can do not to move at risk of suffocating him, so I tense completely and cling onto the headboard to try and hold my weight up.

He pulls back, slowly, and my cock falls out of his mouth and I moan, leaning forwards and biting onto the wood of the headboard.

"You have to help, you know," Sousuke says, giving my ass cheek a little pat as if to tell me off.

"H-how?" I feel like an idiot, but this is _not_ the sort of blow job I'm used to.

"Fuck my mouth," he demands, gently, but tinges pink a little like he's just become aware of the far too casual way he's saying these things.

He takes me back in before I can say anything, and I start off slowly moving my hips in and out, but whatever his tongue is doing to the underside of my head each time I pull out is driving me mad. I bite down on the headboard, wanting to make this last. He pulls off again, giving my but another disciplinary spank.

"You don't have to hold back."

"But I don't want it to end!" I almost sob at the lack of contact, and he kisses my tip like he knows, licking up the slit again.

"You taste great, by the way," I groan. "That's a compliment, sweetie. But come on, relax. Just enjoy it. We can work on your stamina while we're working on mine, alright?"

I don't really have an argument, so when he opens his mouth up invitingly I just push back in, groaning as each inch slides over his hot tongue.

"Where should I cum?" I manage to ask between pants.

"In my mouth, silly," his words vibrate around my cock. "I've already eaten your cum, after all."

"Should I… warn you?"

"I'll know," he assures, and closes his mouth, sucking and managing to lick even though I'm all the way down his throat as I move in and out, getting a little bit braver with his encouraging little moans and squeezes of my ass.

His fingers don't trail even _close_ to my hole, and I can't decide if I appreciate that or not, because it's definitely tender. But he probably knows this. It's not like _he_ hasn't done all of this before, after all.

I feel myself getting closer, and he hums around me, and it's just like he said, he _knows_, and somehow that turns me on even more until I'm bucking wildly into him, a little voice absently pleading in the back of my bed not to _hurt him_, but he just sucks and swallows harder, matching my pace as best he can. I don't know _how_ he's so in-tune with my body, but right as the warmth runs up from my balls, he pulls back so just my head is on his tongue and catches everything I release, swallowing and tasting it in a way that's a little bit perverted but _so fucking sexy_ at the same time.

When he pulls my pathetic, limp, twitching body down into his lap and sits up to hold me, the only thing I can do is capture him in a kiss, before I can even bring my arms around him, panting desperately into his mouth. He grins when I collapse back, catching my head and bringing me to lean my forehead against his to support me, keep me upright. His face is so full of pride and just _fascination_ that I have to look away, it's too much. I snuggle into the crook of his neck, on his good shoulder, and he kisses down the side of my neck and along my collar.

"Get naked," I groan, muffled by his neck, and then wake up a little bit and decide not to give him a choice in the matter by pulling his top over his head before he's even finished laughing at me.

"_Relax_," he purrs. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I can _see that_," I growl. "Move, so I can take your pants off."

He's laughing, laughing so hard that he becomes completely pliable for me to push him onto his back and tug on his pants to work them down. He helps a little bit, pushing his hips up just an inch so I can get them around his solid backside.

"Why are you _laughing?!_" I demand, crawling back into his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. He's hard and I rub against him a little bit. "Thought you said you couldn't go again," I pout.

"Well if you make me cum _now_ I _definitely_ won't be able to do anything with you tomorrow."

…That changes things a bit.

I roll my head against his shoulder in defeat. He's won, and he laughs again because he knows it. "How can you _not_, though?"

"Comes with experience," he says, a bit lamely. "Sorry," he adds.

"Don't _apologise_," I snarl. Why would he _apologise_ for the best blow job I've ever had?

"I don't want you to be disappointed," he rubs my hip. "It's not that I don't _want_ to, not by a long shot."

"It's fine… I'm just being greedy."

"I like greedy," he kisses my cheek and pushes me to the side. "Now I'm gonna go get ready for bed, alright?" he stands up and pumps his cock a few times, probably just because it feels good, "and _you_, little minx, are going to calm down. You've had a long day, and we've _both_ had a long week. We can spend the entire day in bed tomorrow, if you want."

I like it when he does this. When he tells me what to do so I know where I stand. While he's away in the bathroom, exhaustion takes over me as my last wave of orgasm seeps its way into my every muscle.

"Doesn't take you long to drop off, does it?" Sousuke says softly.

I hadn't even heard him come back into the room, let alone, climb into bed. He's stroking my hair, and I roll over to face him, eyes attempting to flutter open.

"Sorry, were you asleep?"

"Mm, just a bit," I can't keep my eyes open.

"Do you want to cuddle?"

"Mm, just a bit," I repeat.

He chuckles softly, "Did you even hear me?"

"Shut up," I shuffle over and lean into him. Lying on his back, he tucks me up under his arm.

"Good night, Haruka."

I wake up on my other side, apparently having rolled over, or _been_ rolled over, at some point in my sleep. Sousuke spoons into me, but sort of curled over, with his head above mine, chin digging a little into my scalp. My head is on his arm as a pillow, and his other arm is wrapped around me, right around my front and holding onto my shoulder. There's not a single gap between my back and his chest, and it's sort of tacky from a little sweating in the night.

And it's absolutely _blissful_.

He snorts a little, just barely snoring with ragged breath. I could stay here forever, listening to it. It feels a bit strange, to be so enchanted by what's really a rather unattractive noise. I know it would definitely be annoying if I was trying to sleep. It was certainly a problem the night before when he was lying on his back.

"Sou?" I quietly ask the air, testing how light a sleeper he is. There's not even a break in the rhythm of his breathing. "Sousuke?" I ask again a little louder. Still nothing. I start to slowly slide away from him, inching along his arm, and the one around me just follows like it's glued. When I'm finally just one shuffle away from breaking free, he gathers me in both arms and tugs me back, tight to his chest.

"Making an escape?" he asks, voice rough and tired, but his arms are still so strong despite him being barely conscious.

"Gotta pee," I say simply, because there's no point beating around the bush here.

"Go on then, cutie," I can _hear_ the amusement in his voice. "Wake me up when you get back."

He releases me and falls onto his front as soon as I'm out of bed with a grumbling moan. I go and do my business, and wash my hands. And my face. And clean my teeth. And wash my arms. And my neck – and then give it up as a waste of time and hop in the shower, revelling in Sousuke's apparent preference for almost bruising water pressure. I towel off thoroughly, aware of where I'll be going back to, even doing a good job of my hair, for Sousuke's sake, and tiptoe back along the landing.

Sousuke is still on his front, breathing deeply, like he's actually succumbed back into a coma while I've been away. I sit next to him, and his head turns towards me, eyes slit open, regaining his senses.

"Thought you were just going for a pee?" he asks, with a little amused smile.

"Got distracted."

"That's not good for –" _oh, don't even_. I interrupt him by kissing him quiet. He's a bit surprised, and his lips are tired and a bit slow to respond, which is cute. The morning breath is –

He suddenly wakes up a bit, flicking his tongue into my mouth.

– bearable.

With a little moan, he pulls away and stretches out, and then rolls onto his back so he can pull his arms across his chest, probably to stretch out his shoulder. He scoots over a bit and surprises me by putting his head in my lap. It's nice though, like we've switched roles a bit from last night, and I card my fingers through his scruffy hair.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, blinking more awake.

"Um…" well _about_ that…

"Sore? I thought you would be," he smiles. "Sorry about that."

I shake my head. There's really _nothing_ to be sorry for.

"What about you? You look like shit," the words fall out of my mouth before I can clamp down on them.

He only looks amused though, like I'm being _'cute'_, or something. "I'm just old, actually. Need coffee. You wear me out."

"I can get you coffee," another thing that just comes tumbling down from my brain.

"Be my guest, baby. Or my waiter. You know, whichever of those fits…" he's doing it again with the pet names and he trails off, like he's having a bit of trouble controlling his own words, too.

I slink away again, to the kitchen this time and root around for his coffee supplies before the red, shiny contraption on the opposite counter waves me over. Sousuke's really into his coffee, apparently. I choose a little packet with "morning blend" written on it and aim at what look to be the right buttons. Coffee happens, so I think I got it right.

I make him toast too. It just feels like the right thing to do, and like he'd probably do it for me if we switched places. I take the mug and the plate back upstairs, and Sousuke's sat up in bed with the telly on low, watching the news. The little mint packet is still sitting on his bedside table where he hasn't put it away yet, so kissing is probably on the list of things to do.

He smiles at me, rubbing my back while I set his mug on the side and pass him his plate, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. But if yesterday's debacles are anything to go by, he probably doesn't get this too often. It's a bit of a wonder he's even gotten to this age, especially looking just as _good _as he _does_, considering what his diet must be like according to the contents of his fridge. It reminds me a little bit of –

"Toast?" Sousuke grins and takes the plate, looking totally flattered and pulling that awed expression again when he meets my eye and tucks a finger under my chin to pull me in for a kiss.

"Carbs," or something.

– now's probably not the best time to think about _him_.

He eats happily, and I get the impression he's the kind of guy who's _always_ happy to accept food. A bit of a bottomless stomach. Sort of like someone else I know… I sit by him, just on the edge of the bed, legs dangling, and he has one arm just lying out across my lap, sort of like I'm in the way but also like I'm not allowed to move from this spot – which I don't mind, to be honest. It's nice, this. It's right up my street, just a quiet companionship that doesn't _need_ to be filled with incessant, mindless chatter, and Sousuke's probably too old for any of that anyway.

"Wow," Sousuke says, a bit absently around the final swallow of his toast. I cast my eyes over to him in acknowledgement, because there's obvious more to say. That's a bit of an overreaction for _toast_. "This is the longest I've seen you naked and soft, you know," he teases. "You're not getting bored of me already, are you?"

"Well you're being a bit boring, just eating toast," I quip flatly. All it earns me is a poke.

"Mm," he sighs, obviously still sleepy, and his eyes slide over to the clock. "You hungry yet?"

"Eh…" I consider it. Eating would probably be a good thing. "Sure," I decide.

"Would you like to go out for lunch?"

I suppress a slight groan. "What happened to staying in bed all day?"

He laughs just lightly, soft eyes full of endearment and he strokes my back again. "Let me treat you."

_Why, though?_

That feels a bit… I don't know. I'm not sure what to make of it.

"Know anywhere nice open on Sundays?" he continues, hooking his finger under my chin and bringing me to look at him.

I shrug, and he frowns a bit and holds my arms, pulling me up and into his lap. This is becoming a recurring thing, he must get something out of having me here, getting to hold on and run his hands everywhere, my weight barely making an impression on his thighs, but it's not feeling so much _sweet_ as it is _possessive_.

I sink in a bit, leaning a little into him, and he ducks his head briefly to kiss at my cheek, but then suddenly pulls away like it was accidental.

Certainly reminded me of the kissing I thought he was planning, though. With him suddenly getting so shy, well…

I turn my head and nudge towards his cheek, returning the kiss a few extra shades on the side of chaste for what I'd been going for. His cheek is stubbly, scratchy, but it tingles on my lips all the same. I brush over his other cheek with my fingers, and he smirks.

"This'll happen to you too, you know, your pretty, little baby face won't stay like that forever," he mirrors my movements, cupping my jaw and bringing his lips down much more confidently, kissing along from my ear, down to my chin, and up to my other ear. "How long do you go between shaves?"

"Like a week," I grumble, because it's a bit humiliating considering my best friend seems to break out in a full beard overnight.

"Well maybe one day I'll be giving you a shaving lesson," he teases.

"I already shave for swimming," I shrug.

He frowns a little, but then breaks out into a grin. "Yes, I'd _noticed_ that," he beams and runs a hand to my slightly stubbled crotch. "That is _gorgeous_."

"Your tastes are weird," I mumble. "Pervert."

He chuckles and finally, _fucking __**finally**_, takes me into a deep kiss, minty and a little bit wet and absolutely _filthy_ when he does a _thing_ with his tongue over the roof of my mouth and I shudder and moan entirely involuntarily into his mouth.

He rolls me onto my back, taking full control as he straddles me, keeping his weight off and hunkering over me back into the kiss. His hand slides down between our bodies and finds my cock, hard for him already, and strokes a few times, then lets up and I try not to whimper at the loss.

"I'd fuck you again, if I thought you could handle it," he whispers into my ear and goes to move his finger around my hole. I wince. "But I don't want to hurt you," _well, thanks_, "so you'll just have to make do with my hands for now, ok?"

He's so _obviously_ hinting at the promise of more to come later, that this is going to become a regular thing, a _habit_ of ours, part of a weekend routine that my insides do a little flip in anticipation and I force the excitement away from my face. He doesn't need to know what he's doing to me, he just needs to do it.

I nod and he takes hold again, but this time he's holding his own hard cock there too, hot and sticky and I feel like it's completely dwarfing mine, rubbing against it in his hand as he begins to jerk us both.

His pace is slow, steady, and he thrusts in and out while he pumps with the utmost purpose, pulling back from the kiss and watching my face with something I can't read, so I just close my eyes. Minutes pass and he picks up the pace with a rougher grip, and I can feel myself bubbling up already. He does that thing again, the thing where he just _knows_.

"Ah, ah, ah, remember what we said about _stamina_," Sousuke teases.

"Well what about _your_ stamina," I snap back, and I don't mean to be overly expectant or anything, but I'd been sorting hoping to get him off with something more exciting than a hand job.

He flashes a grin, "Oh, Haru, baby, we have all day, remember?" and comes in to kiss at me again.

So this is just what? The first course?

I can probably go with that.

He continues to stroke at what's apparently the _perfect_ pace for him, according to the muted grunts into my mouth and the thin film of sweat covering him, but for me it's just _torture_. Too slow and a bit too soft, especially when I thought he liked it rougher, and just altogether _not enough_ and he _knows_ it.

"Sousuke –" I cough out, quiet and a little bit strangled when he tightens his hold right at that moment.

"Yes, baby?" he coos into my neck, sandwiched by sloppy kisses around each word.

It's something he does with the pet name. Rolling it off his tongue and just into my head, flicking every trigger I didn't even know I had and curling me into a moaning mess.

"_Please_," I whine.

All he does is chuckle again, rumbling against me. "You don't get to finish until I do," he purrs, so sweet and softly despite the words _ripping through me like a knife_.

His breathing starts to catch and his chest sinks into mine, making me gasp as he struggles to keep himself up, but it's not uncomfortable to have him lying over me. A bit hot and he _is_ heavy, but overall pleasant and just _sexy_ as he picks up the pace.

Right when I'm reaching my peek, he lets up on the thrusts of his cock against mine, taking everything down again and pulling me back from the brink with a half apologetic half amused kiss to my mouth, and then sets off all over again until by the time he's close to coming there are actual tears running down my face and my teeth marks in his shoulder. He bucks harder, gripping so rough that it's almost painful and locks onto my lips, sucking in and letting me go over first. It's such a _relief_ to cum that it almost takes away from the sheer pleasure, and then he twitches against me and reminds me just how hot this is when he coats my cock with his cream.

"Sorry," he breathes, hitching back up, supported on his forearms. He leans down and kissing over my face and I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see what he thinks of my state. "But you are just the sexiest little thing when you're desperate."

It takes a second for me to process but… "_You!_" I hiss. "You did that on purpose!"

He kisses at my eyes. "Yes," he admits, innocently cocking his head, "but wasn't it worth it?"

Probably.

"You're such a good boy," he says, wrapping his tongue around mine again. "And we made such a mess."

"Shower?" I suggest hopefully.

He wipes his slimy hand on my stomach, laughing at the grossed out noise that slips from my lips.

"Come on then. And then we'll get you lunch," he punctuates with a big kiss on my cheek.

After we're showered and dressed, and spend a few minutes making out against his bedroom wall because we're both just so _distracted _by each other's presence, we end up in his car, and he poses his earlier question again.

"So, where do you know that's open on a weekend? Anywhere you want, my treat."

"Um…" even if I _am_ opposed to milking his generosity, there's nowhere exactly _nice_ I could direct us to…

….

"MgRonald's, really, Haru?" Sousuke asks, not even bothering to be ashamed of his smirk as he eyes me in his rear view mirror while he reverses into a parking space.

"It's… uh…"

He chuckles and reaches out to squeeze my thigh. "It's fine. I don't really mind."

"Used to work here," I mumble.

"Ah, your first job?" I nod. "Sweet."

We head inside and I'm _so glad_ for the speedy turnover of staff when I realise the questions that could be raised if Sousuke decides to pull out any public displays of affection, but behaves himself. And then I realise, _why wouldn't he?_ He probably wants embarrassing even less than I do, hanging out in a shitty burger joint with his kid-colleague…

"And what drinks would you like with that?" the cashier asks once we've placed our orders.

Sousuke looks to me first. "Mango and pineapple smoothie, please," I say, and see him smirk out of the corner of my eye.

"I'll have the same," and he winks, fucking _winks_ at the woman, and out of her sight rubs his hand along the small of my back. I'm glad he's paying, because there's no way I can talk now. Breathing is enough trouble as it is. "I'm gonna go and get straw and things," he tells me, with another pass of his hand on my back.

I manage to nod and he walks away, leaving me with the cashier who's smiling away while she waits to put our food on the tray.

"Nice of him, isn't it," she starts, and it takes a moment to realise she's trying to make small talk, "buying you lunch even though you're all grown up now," what? "I wish my Dad still did that for me."

Sousuke returns at that moment with a playful grin. He slides a straw behind each of my ears, smirking away while I look blankly up at him. The woman smiles affectionately, as if this just confirms her idea that he's a doting father. He shifts behind me, considerate of the small space between counters, and I can feel his heat radiating into my back and it's all becoming a bit much.

And then he slides his hand into my back pocket and _squeezes_.

It's a test. It _must_ be a test. He's testing my reaction, looking for that button that makes me blow, wanting to see how far he can push things.

Two can play at this game.

The cashier clears her throat and we both snap into attention, apparently both distracted by what's going down between us.

"Can you get the drinks, Haru?" Sousuke asks as he steps around me to grab the tray.

I pick them up, catching the woman's eye and mumble "Sure, Dad."

The look on his face is priceless.

One-all, Sousuke.

We sit in a booth, and I drop the smug smirk from my face when he squeezes one of my knees between his. At least no one can _see_ this.

"I take back what I said about you being a good boy," he smiles, seemingly pleased despite everything.

"You started it," I grunt.

"Well played, all the same," and he gives me that look again, the fascinated and _proud_ stare like he really is a parent. "You knew what I was playing at, didn't you?"

"Mm," I nod.

"Impressive. You're very cool with these things, aren't you?"

Cool. Sure. Because I'm not just exploding inside from every little touch and suggestive whisper.

I just shrug.

We eat quietly and I suddenly realise that I really was hungry. When we're just sipping the last of our drinks, he drops his hand under the table to squeeze my knee. It's suggestive and apologetic at the same time, just another one of those little meaningful touches he keeps laying on, and I'm probably starting to rely on them a little too much. It does something inside me, not as sexy as he's probably intending, but I like them, and I'm craving more of them.

"She really did think you were my Dad, you know," I mutter.

"We do look a little similar."

He's right, even though his eyes are a few shades lighter, it's not a ridiculous conclusion to come to, but that brings me onto another question I've been milling over…

"You don't have any _actual_ kids, do you?" I ask quietly.

He strokes a circle with his thumb on my knee. "No. And I don't have, uh, anyone _else_, if you were going to ask that," he replies after taking a second to gather some confidence. "How about you?"

I narrow my eyes. "I'm not like that."

He smiles, as if he's not just offended me, "Good. I'd be disappointed if you were."

As if I were what? If was cheating with him, or if I was with someone? I narrow my eyes further but he just continues stroking my knee. Is he hinting he wants… _no. Don't be an idiot, Haru_. As if.

"Satisfied?" he asks. I nod and he slides out, coming beside me while I slip my jacket on.

He runs an affectionate hand through my hair, sort of absentmindedly, and I see the realisation fall onto his face when he catches himself, hand pausing as it's pushing back my fringe. He freezes, stock still for a moment while I stare at him, waiting to see if he retracts or finishes the stroke.

He chooses neither, ruffling my hair up instead and turning away, but the tips of his ears are tinged pink.

Cute.

No. No it's _not_ cute. He's thirty-fucking-seven. He's like the opposite of cute. But I don't think anyone would argue with just how _hot_ he is…

"Coming?" he interrupts my train of thought, glancing back over his shoulder, composure completely regained.

It's my turn to fluster a bit, almost tripping over my own feet as I get out of my seat and join him in walking out. Our hands brush just a little in the narrow doorway. Accidental on my part, but I'm not so sure about him, especially when he leans over me and almost sucks on my ear with how closely he comes to whisper to me.

"Shall we continue?"

_Absolutely_.

I shrug.

Those fruity smoothies come into their own when we fill each other's throats later on.

"You don't have a curfew I need to worry about, do you?" he coos into my hair when we're lying on his bed, arms draped over each other. I frown at him, but he just bursts into soft laughter. "Kidding, Haru. But I should probably get you home soon."

I nod, shuffling in closer in a weak attempt at defiance. He slides his other arm around me and rolls my head onto his chest, kissing my temple. We lay just for a moment, until we shuffle simultaneously, me nuzzling in and entwining our legs, and him reaching for the TV controls.

We're not going anywhere _too_ soon, apparently.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks after a long period of quiet.

"Nothing," I answer honestly. "Just…" I twitch my arm around his waist. _Just enjoying you_.

He presses another kiss into my hair and sits us both up, rubbing my back as I grumble.

"Home time," he declares, with a bit of resentment.

At the last junction before my house, we're forced to stop and wait while a funeral procession rolls past, and Sousuke sighs a bit wistfully as the hearse car drives by.

"Night funeral… that's interesting," he smiles.

"_Orrr_ transporting a vampire," I mumble idly, and then feel his gaze burn into me. "Night funeral, don't be _silly_."

"_Haru_," he scolds, exasperated. "Be_have_."

"Sorry…"

He pats my leg, sliding his hand up and down. "Think I could go with that, though. It's cool. Peaceful," he continues.

"I suppose it can be arranged," I shrug.

"_Haru!_" he rounds on me again, "Don't tell me you're just in this for a slice of my will?"

All I can muster is a shrug and silently turn to the window.

He chuckles as we drive on, and I give out the basic directions to my house. There are lights on inside. Sousuke frowns.

"You live with someone?" he asks.

"It's my parents' house… they usually work away. Must have come back for the weekend," I suggest, even though I have a sneaking suspicion of who might be in there, and it's _not_ my parents.

Sousuke frowns further. "They wouldn't have texted you?"

"Uh…" I reach into my pocket for my phone. "It's dead," I shrug.

"No kisses on the doorstep then," he teases.

"Kisses in the car are alright though," I say, turning to him.

He agrees, because the next second his tongue is in my mouth, kissing and licking and getting his fill of a final taste while I wonder just _what_ I'm going to say when I get inside.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" he asks when we part.

"Maybe," I say simply, and take that as my cue to get out.

He makes the good bye easy, just a smile and a two-fingered wave as he pulls away.

Time to face the music…

Or more accurately, the _Makoto._

It's as expected, being instantly pulled into a bear hug as soon as I step in the door, but oddly enough, he doesn't look as panic as expected.

"You didn't have to wait for me," I tell him, pushing past dismissively to set my things in the lounge.

He smiles softly, because that's just what he does. "I wanted to, you've been so stressed with that work thing all week, and then your gala…"

"How did you know I did the gala?" I ask immediately. The last conversation we'd had on it was him encouraging me to pull out, because of how exhausted I was. _Prioritising_, he'd called it.

"I called your coach when you didn't answer your phone," he admits.

Something must show on my face, or maybe it doesn't, it's hard to tell with Makoto, he's always had this way of knowing. But he continues.

"He told me you were staying over with one of the swim guys because you'd been out after your win," he says calmly.

And now I owe Rin a piece of my soul, isn't that just _wonderful_.

"Uh, yeah," I agree, because it's not like I'm going to admit what I've _actually_ been up to.

"Have you had dinner? Do you want me to run you a bath?" he asks, slipping into his mothering mode.

I shake my head. Sousuke's been feeding me up on fruit all evening, and we'd taken _another_ shower together before I left.

"Well, I'll leave you to it, shall I?" he smiles, aiming for the door.

"Wait –"

"Hmm, Haru-chan?" he stops, turning to me with that cocked head and sappy smile.

"Sorry if I made you worry…" I whisper.

"No need, Haru. You know I'm happy as long as you are."

He wouldn't be saying that if he knew the truth, I assure you.

It's odd, getting to sleep all by myself, even though it's only been two nights with Sousuke. His bed is larger, softer, and there's this embracing feeling of _comfort_ that had me all wrapped up within his arms. It's a rough night, but I settle into my morning routine of bath, mackerel and running to the aquatic centre as best I can.

At least the ache has gone from my ass.

Rin sports a fine smirk all through the brief morning training session and I, brave little soul that I am, avoid all forms of conversation and make a exist so prompt I'm even early for work. Well wouldn't a certain someone just be proud.

I consider visiting, but then decide I'm _not_ a hopeless fanboy and can absolutely last more than twelve hours without those perfect turquoise eyes smiling down on me. Sousuke's going to have to make the first move regarding that, I decide.

The agent I'm directed to work with is a man I've worked with before, Shigino Kisumi. He's long and lean and topped with a ridiculous bush of pink hair. I'd estimate his age to be somewhere in the early thirties, but I suspect he might be a little older, closer to Sousuke's age.

Speaking of whom…

"Sooo," Shigino grins and slides a file my way, "How'd it go being Yamazaki's little rent boy last week?"

I stare at him, and he just melts into a snigger.

"_Sorry_, Haruka. You know I'm just kidding. But don't tell me you didn't realise what a _pervert_ he can be. Especially with a tight little ass like yours."

I wonder if he even realises that he's making himself into a pervert as well, saying things like that, but this it's something I've unfortunately grown to expect from this guy. But…

I clear my throat. "Um… he was fine," I say, looking distantly at the window.

"If you say so, kiddo," and he brushes his hand down my arm in what he's probably trying to pull off as _comforting_. In reality it's just plain _creepy. _"You know you can always come and talk to me, as a _friend_," he draws out the word, a lilt in his voice, "if you want some… _mature_ advice."

Thanks, but no thanks.

Although there's someone else who might be able to shed a little insight…

"Rin," I approach cautiously after training.

"Hmm?" he turns, eyebrows raised and that smug smirk still plastered all over him. Oh _god_ this was a bad idea…

"I have a question…" and the way his eyebrows waggle means he's already guessed the direction this is going, and I decide there's no point making small talk. "Yamazaki… does he do this a lot?"

"Whatever do you mean, Haru?" he asks, in a smarmy, highly amused tone.

"_This_," I repeat.

"And what's _this_, Haru?" he continues to grin.

"You _know_ what," I glare, not playing his games, and he descends into a fit of giggles.

"Sorry, _sorry_," he begs over his laughter. "Your _face_, Haru. I don't mean to tease."

I look at him, long and silent, because he absolutely does.

He gives in, "No, he doesn't. But you should talk to him yourself. Or has something happened?"

"Um…" uttering Shigino's words probably wouldn't be in my best interests, nor Sousuke's, to be honest. "I don't want to seem…"

"Keen?" he finishes for me. "Just take him coffee or something."

Coffee, or something, that something being a bag of grapes I've picked up in the little mart at the station and tucked into my satchel. Shigino doesn't come in until nine, so I have time to kill. I make a cup of tea for myself and Sousuke's coffee just to his liking, and head for his office, knocking tentatively and precariously balancing the mugs in one hand.

"What _now?_" comes the rough, grumpy call from inside, and I push in just enough to catch a glimpse. "Oh, Nanase…" his face softens. "Hi."

"Got you coffee…" I explain, stepping in and letting the door slip shut.

"Well aren't you just the sweetest thing?" not the word I'd use. "Sorry, bit stressed. Come sit."

I slip down into my seat on the chaise, and he looks put out for a minute before getting out of his chair to join me, squeezing my thigh in thanks when he takes his mug.

"I, uh, got grapes too."

"_Did_ you now," he grins, and opens his mouth expectantly.

Acting exasperated, I feed him one.

"Mm, what a way to brighten my morning. Coffee, grapes, and a kiss from you."

I know when to take cues, and turn towards him, making him make up the distance to softly kiss my lips and slide his arms around my waist, rubbing gently on my back. He pulls away quite quickly and rests our foreheads together.

"Can't get too carried away," he warns, and puts an inch of space between us.

"What's got you so grumpy?" I ask.

He chuckles and squeezes my leg again, "_Someone_ put my standards up a bit much," he explains. "The artist for this project is… well. _Abstract_."

"Since when were you a connoisseur?" I scoff.

"Probably since I met you. How're you liking your partner this week?"

Well, enough that _liking_ doesn't even come into it. He must read it in my frown.

"Not your type?"

"Bit of a pervert," I grumble, which, considering my apparent _infatuation_ with Sousuke, actually _does_ make him my 'type', but…

"Don't tell me it's Shigino?"

"How did you _know?_" I ask, a bit amazed, because _seriously. _

He chuckles, squeezing again, and I get the impression he's got a bit of a thing for my legs, "Known him a while… do you want me to have words?"

I shake my head, feeling a bit patronised, but it's a nice gesture all the same. "Protective…" I mumble.

"Just a bit," he agrees, and it fills me with something a little bit warm.

I turn my head to him, and he's _right there_ to plant a little kiss on my nose. "Well, I guess we both have things to do… I'm heading out at lunch today, but I thought maybe we could…?" he trails off, another one of those times where he makes me work it out for myself, always testing.

"Whatever," I shrug.

However, he's not the only one to invite me out to lunch.

"If we can get this wrapped up this morning, I'll treat you to lunch," Shigino beams at me, hovering over my shoulder, face too close to mine and breath irritating my ear.

Needless to say, I'm taking my sweet-ass time finishing up.

I duck out of his office a few minutes before lunch and head down two flights of stairs to get to Sousuke's office. Knocking on the door, I push in, and immediately regret ever setting foot in this room.

Sousuke pushes a hand back through the guy's silver hair, a little scrawny thing with big, sappy blue eyes and sighs. The creek of the door makes both their heads snap to mine.

"Haru," Sousuke almost chokes on my name, scooting away from the young artist immediately. "Nanase," he corrects himself. "Just give me a minute, okay?"

No, _not okay_. He's obviously already a bit _busy_ with this other kid, and I realise I'm an _idiot_ for thinking he'd really want to spend time with me.

Silently, I turn from the door, hiding my upset, and leave.

Somehow, Sousuke finds me in the bathroom on his floor, where I'm standing by the sinks watching the water run. Probably a bit of an obvious hiding place, to be honest, but I hadn't expected him to come after me. He stands back and to the side, where I can just about see him in my peripheral vision in the mirror, with his arms folded and a stern frown on his face.

I look down at the water, and hear him deflate.

"Haruka," he throws out my full name in the lowest, hardest voice I've heard in my entire life, but then he catches himself and his face softens in the mirror, and he takes a step closer. "I'm too old to be dealing with jealous little boys."

And that's what this is, isn't it. I'm _jealous_ because he's been touching that other kid in the same way he touched me. Shigino was right. Shigino's a knob, but he was right. This is the part where he swoops in and tells me to get over myself, it was just a fling, and calls me out on being such an _idiot_.

He moves closer again, tiptoeing towards me the same way he's tiptoeing towards my inevitable heartbreak. _Heartbreak?_ I'm not…

He leans back on the sinks, spreading his arms out and holding onto the porcelain for balance as he sinks so we're the same height. One arm leans in front of me, like a big barrier between myself and the water. He's so _close_, his thick shoulder just inches in front of mine.

"However," he continues, and this is already veering off the course I thought it was going to take. That arm suddenly means a lot more. If I lean into it, he'll probably wrap it around me, bring me all close to his chest and let me stick my face in his neck and let me cry like he probably thinks I'm going to.

I'm not going to.

"I can't say I'm not a bit flattered."

What? "What?"

He lets out a light little chuckle. "A little jealousy is always healthy," he explains, tone a bit patronising, like he knows something I don't.

Which at this point, he probably does.

"Am I allowed to explain what you think you saw?"

I suppose. I blink once and look up at the mirror to stare at the back of his head.

"I yelled at him, and he was upset, so I had to fix it. I don't treat…" he cuts himself off and clicks his tongue as he tries to rephrase. "You're an exception, Haru."

That's not what Shigino said. But apparently Sousuke has an answer for that too.

"Kisumi's an asshole. I know _I'm_ an asshole, but," he brings his hand up to touch my chin, turning me towards him, "I'm _your_ asshole."

Pretty sure he's got that the wrong way around, but whatever.

"Rin texted me this morning, you know, said you were a little off, feeling insecure… don't be mad at him. He just doesn't want us to hurt each other… and Kisumi, well. He's harmless."

He strokes along my jaw and to the back of my neck, drawing little circles and tussling the hair there. That other arm is still in front of me, waiting for me to accept it.

"Say something?" he asks, sounding worried.

"Sorry," I mumble. "I have no right to be jealous…" because I don't, it's not like we're _boyfriends_ or anything. We just had sex.

And spent a glorious weekend basking in coital afterglow.

But it was just sex.

He cocks his head and almost starts to frown, but then relaxes into a smile. "I suppose that's up for you to decide," he says, calm as anything. "Come here?" he coaxes, and that arm in front of me lifts off the sink and opens out to me.

I'd be a bit of an idiot not to step into it, and the second I lean forwards he's got me all bundled in, sliding our chins onto each other's shoulders and dappling kisses all over my neck, slow and tender, like he's _relieved_. I'm surprised the sinks are even managing to take our combined weight, with me pressed entirely into his protective, embracing frame.

"You know, I don't appreciate being stood up for a lunch date," he snarls into my neck, but there's a sing song tone to it.

"Not exactly hungry anymore…" I grumble.

"Well, I suppose that's fair enough," he kisses closer to my mouth, coming to my cheek and chin now. "But I still have some of those grapes you bought me yesterday," and now he's brushing our noses together, and I can taste his words on my lips. It's my job to lean into the kiss again. Another of his little things where he leaves it up to me to make a move, like he expects me to back away…

Obviously I'm not the only insecure one.

He grunts into the kiss, the joy obvious and he moves slow against my lips, savouring every pass of my tongue against his, but end he pulls away before I'm ready, and I end up falling further into him. He laughs and stands me up, looking silently towards the door, trying to tell me to _behave_ without saying it aloud.

We're still in the work's bathroom, after all.

"But," he continues, as if he's not just broken off with a minute of heavy kissing. "I think for being such a _naughty_ boy," he pauses for effect, _what_ effect, I'm not quite sure, "you should let me take you out to dinner instead."

It's his money, I guess, shrugging. "Like a date?" I ask, completely unable to contain such a _ridiculous_ question because _as __**if**_ –

He chuckles against my shoulder, "If you'd like," he says, pointlessly, because that really doesn't clear _anything_ up.

"As long as there's mackerel," I mutter, and apparently that's just _hilarious_ to Sousuke, and earns me another wet kiss and a spank on the ass.

"Come on, cheeky. And don't you worry your pretty little head about Nitori. Not my type, _believe _me," he rolls his eyes. "Now, how about those grapes, hmm?"

Sousuke splays himself out on his chaise. The door is locked and the blinds on the little window in the door are drawn. He opens his arms out, and there's really only one place to go. I grab the bag of grapes from his desk – apparently he hadn't wanted to share with Nitori, and I probably shouldn't be so pleased about that – and sidle on over.

If there wasn't such an oddly heavy atmosphere, I might bully him a bit. Maybe sit on the desk and make him come to me instead of being so spoiled and waiting on the lounge, or sit on his feet and find out if he's ticklish. But as it stands, there's a bubble of trust that needs to be refilled. He trusts me to crawl up onto his chest, and I trust him to not yelp too loudly when I accidentally knee him in the crotch.

Sorry, Sousuke.

"Hi," he smiles softly as I'm hovering over his face to settle.

I give him a quick kiss on the lips as I shuffle down, and he seems pleasantly surprised enough that I wonder if that was even the right move.

"Hello," I mumble into his collar.

"Comfy?" he asks.

"Mm."

It's so intimate, this straight up _cuddling_, it's too much for what we are. These light little kisses he's dotting along my hairline as his big, warm hands untuck my shirt from my pants and slide under to run up and down my back. I know the whole thing is gearing up so he can snog me senseless and get whatever pleasure he gets from feeding me grapes, but for now, I could probably fall asleep.

And he probably wouldn't say a word about it.

But when his little chuckle starts to rumble up, that affectionate, amused one that seems to leak uncontrollably from his throat whenever he decides I'm the most endearing thing he's ever seen, I grab a grape to silence him. He somehow manages to chew and swallow while still giggling a little, and despite the intimacy, despite just how _nice_ this is to just be held, all I can do is glare at him.

And that just makes him laugh _more_.

"What?" I demand, getting my own grape and finding my own amusement with how offended he looks I don't feed him another one too.

"You're just so…" he stops, and gets a prod in the chest from me when he just looks up with his big, soft eyes. "Nothing…" he says sweetly, closing his eyes.

Probably "_cute_" or something else ridiculous. I lay on my side a little, head tucked under his chin, and we eat silently for a while, just occasionally bringing a grape up to the other's lips. When Sousuke's done, he comes to kiss on my hair and stroke his fingers through, hugging my shoulders tight.

"I really am sorry, Haru…" he mumbles. "You must have felt like shit, seeing that…"

Ah. So _that's _why he's being so affectionate and cuddling the crap out of me. It's _guilt_.

I shrug in his arms. "I shouldn't be jealous," I grunt, mostly feeling like I'm saying that to myself.

"I don't mean that. I mean… seeing me apparently going for him in just the same way I went for you, not even a week later. You must have felt like just a notch on the bedpost. You're _not_."

I hum against him in acknowledgement. He's right… he's _too_ right. He's old enough that he's probably suffered at least _one_ similar heartbreak. I hug him tighter, trying to understand.

"Kiss me," I say, shuffling up, making it so he doesn't really have a choice.

Not that he finds it a difficult decision, instantly taking my chin under his finger and tenderly licking along my lips to slick them up, and then moving us together so light and languid it's almost chaste. There's a word for this. I don't know what it is, but there's a _word_. He even makes a little _mwah_ noise when he pulls away.

"You should really get back upstairs, you know. Kisumi's _bound_ to send out a search party," Sousuke says, all the while brushing his nose against my cheek. "And Nitori needs to come off his lunch break too…"

I make no attempt to move other than nudging back in for another kiss, getting some tongue in this time.

"What _is_ your "type" then?" I ask, more out of genuine curiosity than jealousy at this point.

"Trying to fit the bill?" he answers with another question, teasingly sliding his hands down to my ass. "You are a _very_ interesting young man."

Apparently that's all the answer I'm getting for now, but I do get a sweet kiss to the temple by the door.

"I'm sorry for… you know," I mutter.

He shakes his head and cups my cheek, bringing me in to kiss my forehead again, and then his tilts his head to lay it over mine. "No need. I thought you were very dignified," yeah, because he thought I was going to _cry_, "And I will pick you up a six."

Shigino eyes me suspiciously when I come back to the office, his eyes sparkling beneath his raised eyebrows as he looks me over, obviously looking for significant limps or wet patches. My lips are a bit red and puffy, but I could probably excuse that by saying I had something–

Never mind. I don't even want to _imagine_ the face he'd pull if I said I had something _salty_.

"Nice l_uuu_nch?" he sings, swaggering over to where I've sat at the small extra desk he has, facing the window.

I nod, deciding that silence is in everyone's best interests, while he puts his hands on the back of my chair and I can see him grinning in the reflection of the window. He's not _lecherous_ as such, just _annoying_. He's not even that unpleasant when he's not talking about my backside. At least there's very little work to do, and Shigino bats his eyelids at the boss until he lets us leave early, but I get called to the main office before I can escape.

That's never a good thing.

Sousuke is already in the office, looking pissy, and Ryugazaki scowls in his direction and – _shit_.

We've been found out.

Sousuke sends me a soft smile and twitches his hand in my direction, a summons to come closer? Might as well, seeing as we're both going down together. He strokes a caring hand down my back, disguised as a greeting, but so much more.

"Gentlemen," Rygazaki announces, holding out two perfectly presented manila envelopes, one in each hand.

Sousuke approaches first and takes both, passing the one with my name on to me. He smiles up at me, soft, encouraging_, everything's going to be alright_. At least he's making some _effort_ to soften the blow. It's probably obvious on my face at this point that I am very much_ not_ happy with – oh.

_Hello_.

Well isn't that a handsome set of digits.

I blink up at Sousuke, confused. This isn't dismissal…

This is a _cheque_.

"Commission, for last week," Sousuke beams.

"I told you it was worth it," Ryugazaki beams, and it must be evident that my heart has sort of stopped a little with the way both he and Sousuke look at me with concern.

Sousuke nudges me in the shoulder with a light fist, "Good job, kid, you earned that," he smiles sincerely.

They're both so oblivious to my actual distress it's not even funny, but I suppose that's for the best. I play on the act of being shocked by the four digit figure and the boss smiles and holds the door open for us to leave. Sousuke grabs my wrist.

"Rei," he starts, and I feel him tense as he appears to gather some nerve. "I'd like to work with Nanase again."

Ryugazaki turns, slowly, and clocks me with a hard look, and it's all I can do to try and keep my face impassive, even as Sousuke shrugs his arm around my shoulders in what _hopefully _appears to be a casual manner. He's probably giving me a moment to refuse. I say nothing.

"Well… that can probably be arranged. You have produced some _beautiful_ pieces, after all."

Sousuke smiles, pleased, and Ryugazaki nods and makes a _get out_ gesture to the door, and I'm nudged forwards by the arm sitting heavily around me.

It slides across and up my back when we hear the door click, and I receive a quick kiss just in front of my ear. "See you at six," Sousuke says, stern, but it's so flirty at the same time, and I've never seen him look so chuffed.

He walks off, sniggering, probably because my face is so red.

What are you supposed to _wear_ for a date? _Probably not jammers_, a part of my brain grumbles. And that part's probably right… I don't even want to imagine what Sousuke would have said if he'd slid his hand down my pants at lunch to cop a feel of swimsuit rather than ass.

It'd probably serve him right though.

A shower is on the to-do list first though, washing away the remnants of Kisumi's over-powering aftershave from where he's been stood too-close for most of the day. I make good work of cleaning all the important bits, hoping the cherry scent of shower gel isn't _too_ off putting for Sousuke… but he'd probably just laugh at me anyway.

I end up with a striped polo and some tan pants rolled up at the ankle. I can't imagine they'll be staying on long after dinner anyway… and that's assuming "dinner" isn't actually just a euphemism for filling me up with his cock.

It better hadn't be, 'cause I'm _starving_.

There's a firm knocking at my door at precisely five past six.

"You're late," I scold as I open the door.

Sousuke grins down at me, still taller even though I'm raised up by the step of the front door, and leans down to lightly kiss my lips.

"And you look adorable."

He still looks like he's dressed for work, smart in a buttoned shirt and pants, but he suits the all black ensemble well. He grins even wider, looking a little smug at obviously catching me eyeing him up.

"Like what you see?" he asks, reaching out to slide a hand down my waist.

I don't justify his vanity with a verbal response, only stepping up on my tiptoes to give him a chastising kiss to the nose. He leads us to his car, going as far as to hold the door for me, but breaks his charade of chivalry by patting my butt twice as I move past him.

"Hope you don't mind a ride, it's hard to find a decent place that does mackerel," he mumbles as he sits next to me.

I could argue that I could rustle us up something perfectly acceptable if we're not just going to skip all the fluff and get to the part where we're shirtless.

But it _is_ a real date? My stomach takes a tumble, suddenly filling with butterflies. Sousuke's hand slides down my leg before he shifts it to take the handbrake off and get into gear, but between changes he moves it back to play with the crease in the muscle on the top of the inside of my thigh. If he's not careful I'm going to –

"Oh, _Haru_," he teases, brushing a knuckle against my bulge.

– …yeah, that.

"Don't," I grumble, shifting in my seat.

He slides his hand down, closer to my knee, but grins all the while, like he's desperately happy with how my body responds without my consent just at his touch.

"I'm flattered," he says, briefly, and gives my knee a squeeze before letting me go completely.

The drive is pleasant, winding just into the country side with all the pretty little villages, and the view is lovely with the sun just beginning its descent. It's pretty quiet, Sousuke just humming along to the radio he has on low, occasionally shooting me a smile I catch out of the corner of my eye. While we're slowly winding through the carpark, his hand comes back to my leg, just resting, like _"I'm here_".

"May I?" Sousuke asks, meeting me at my side of the car and holding out his elbow. I stare at it for a moment until his face falls into a smirk and he steps in closer, lips coming against my ear. "Because I'm not your Dad, remember?" and he sets his hand on my waist to turn me into him for a kiss, just chaste, and I suppose you could even call it _romantic_ with how softly he smiles against my lips.

In the end, I don't take his arm, mostly because I'm just not sure what to do with it. Sousuke doesn't seem to mind though, just gives me a loose little side-hug as we get to the door. He's treating me like I'm nervous. Am I supposed to be nervous? We're seated at a table for four by a wide eyed woman in her late twenties who looks like she's concentrating more on figuring out if she should light the candle in the middle of the table than on what Sousuke is ordering us to drink.

"And… do you want water, Haru?" Sousuke breaks off.

I nod automatically. Because _water_.

He tuts at the unlit candle and moves it to the windowsill next to where we're sat when the waitress has left, but then looks up, a small smile developing on his face and sighs.

"I suppose I don't need a candle to make this a nice night for you."

"It's… not just out of guilt, this, is it?" I ask carefully.

He shakes his head, soft turquoise eyes filled with something I don't have a name for, "I wanted to take you out _anyway_, Haru."

"Why?"

"To spend some time with you, with _just_ you. No work or sex being the focal point. Just _you_."

…So we're not having sex after this? It must show in my expression, even though I probably look more confused than anything else at the moment, because Sousuke immediately breaks into a smirk, but doesn't comment. We both turn all our attention to the menu, but after a few seconds, I can feel him looking at me and raise an eyebrow.

"You've… not done this before, have you?" he says, more an observation than a question because he's _right_.

"Not like this," I answer simply, and look around the fancy restaurant, all dark wood and mood-lit with low burning bulbs in high chandeliers.

"Bit out of reach of college boys?" he smirks, and then suddenly gets out of his seat and comes to take the one next to me. "Let me help, little one," he coos and wraps his arm around my shoulders, but it's far more flirty than patronising, and I'm far too covered in him to even care about the public display. "Your precious mackerel's just here," he points.

After a rub of my shoulder, he slackens his arm and just leaves it resting on the back of my chair. It could probably be called casual. After all, does Sousuke really want people thinking that we're anything _serious_, even if this is a "date"? Probably not, I conclude. Not that that stops Sousuke from shooting the flustering waitress a smug look when she brings over our jug of water and the bottle of whatever Sousuke's ordered.

"Two glasses?" she asks, looking at me pointedly.

"Of course," Sousuke says before I can jump in with anything that makes him look like a paedophile. "It's not strong," he explains when she's left with our food orders. "And I don't believe for one second that you can be part of Rin's team and never have been drunk before."

He does have a point, I suppose, even if the resulting hangovers and the consequential fuss and nagging from Makoto had made me reluctant to keep attending his post-win parties.

"So, tell me more about you," he says, resting his chin on his free hand and looking at me. He already knows I like swimming, art and mackerel. I'm not sure there's a whole lot else _to tell_. "Like," he continues, "your friends, maybe?"

"Makoto," I say on instinct.

He smiles, "Best friend?" all I can do is nod. "Nothing… more?"

"I told you I'm not like that," I grunt. "And he's straight," I tack on, grumbling even more.

"But you wish there could be?" he adds, calm as anything, completely accepting.

I shrug. "High school crush."

"Cute," he tilts his head, so it just rests lightly against mine. "I couldn't imagine you with a kid your own age… you're too mature. You think like you're already thirty."

I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not, but with his fascinated little smile I decide not to be offended.

"For the best anyway, believe me…" he trails off. I nudge his knee with mine. "When we were younger… a _lot_ younger, Rin and I tried a thing… took us ages to become friends again."

Our food arrives and we chat idly, all those little friendly anecdotes you share between, well, _friends_. I learn how he and Rin went to the same elementary school and then met up again in their third year of high school, sharing a room at their specialist swimming academy.

"Try some?" he offers me a forkful of his spicy beef thing, directing it to my mouth.

"It's good," I mumble, swallowing, "here?" I hold out my own fork, with mackerel, rice and some Mediterranean vegetables.

"Hmm, not as plain as I expected. Do you like it?"

I nod, and he runs a finger down my cheek. "Maybe you'll let me bring you here again sometime?"

"Maybe," I say quietly, a bit lost in his gaze.

"Can I kiss you, Haru?"

I don't see why not. It's not like anyone here knows us. "You've never asked before," I murmur, inching closer to grant my permission.

"I don't want to embarrass you."

"You don't."

He closes the gap just for a second, just a soft little kiss, just a lick against my lips and he pulls back with a happy sigh.

"Would you like dessert?" he veers off, leaning back all content, stroking my leg under the table.

"I actually had something else in mind for dessert."

His eyes glint, catching on immediately. "Well, I can hardly deny you anything on our date night, can I? Whatever you want, baby."

Sousuke grins all the way through paying the bill and putting the cap on our bottle of wine. I imagine the last half of that is going to feature quite heavily in the remainder of our evening.

We pull up at my house both with grins of anticipation and Sousuke's hands find the back of my hips while I'm still fiddling with the lock to my door. As soon as we're inside, he brings his arms around my thighs to pick me up, pressing me against the back of the door and kissing me heavily, no nerves or reservations.

"Where's your bedroom?" he huffs against my mouth between flicks of his tongue.

"Upstairs," I answer, uselessly, and he gives me an appropriately exasperated eye-roll.

I direct him, all the while being shifted onto his hip for him to hold me effortlessly, this dominating trait he seems to revel in, even though he's so gentle with it. My queen size is considerably smaller than the king he has, but I suppose we don't need much horizontal space to do what we're going to do.

He lays me on my back, coming over me instantly to continue kissing, making a mess of my face with how wet his kisses are. He takes it up a notch with the roughness of his teeth on my lips and pulls my shirt up, parting so he can get it over my head.

"You're so gorgeous," he hisses, mostly to himself as he rakes his hands down my chest, taking a nipple in each hand and rolling it between his fingers.

I grunt, it tickles just a bit.

"Are you sensitive?" he questions, not giving me a chance to answer before he latches on with his mouth, flicking his tongue over the tiny bud until it's rock hard in his mouth. Any words I had are replaced by a groan. "Apparently so," he teases, and lets me go to shed his own shirt and start working on my pants.

"You too," I manage to grunt, pawing uselessly at his waist band, and he smiles down all endeared and stands up on the bed, making a little show of stripping them off.

He's not shy at all, not that he has any reason to be, his built muscles rippling as he comes to kneel between my legs, intent on getting my cock in his mouth. He spreads my legs wide, rolling me back a little on my spine so he can have easier access.

A teasing, testing lick across my asshole is just a taster for what he has planned, and he follows up by kissing it, naturally deepening by pushing his tongue in.

"Cherry?" he asks, pulling back.

I had been _very_ thorough in my anticipation.

I decline to comment, giving him the lights of kicks to the ribs to prod him onwards.

"My little boy is _needy_ tonight," he grins. "Tell me, Haru, have you missed me?"

I respond by bucking my hips up, an unmistakable hint, and he laughs and kisses my cock.

"Do you have lube, or do I just need to kiss you open?" he asks, running a gentle thumb up my shaft to keep me entertained while we get the technical shit over with.

"Top drawer."

He rummages around in my socks and tosses a bottle on the bed and a foil square I forgot I had, even though I'd seen a few in his wallet anyway. I don't want to admit how _relieved_ I am that he's taking us all the way. I suddenly feel so empty, waiting for him to fill me up. It'll hurt, but it's so _satisfying_.

But then there's a _click_.

Followed by a _buzz_.

_Oh shit_.

"Oh _Haru_," Sousuke sings, and I can just hear the amusement. "Aren't _you_ a naughty little thing?"

He leans over me, hi face filling my eyes, and brings the long, slim vibrator into my vision.

"Just what do you get up to with _this_, hmm?"

"Exactly what you think," I bite, but that just makes him grin even wider and take me into another filthy kiss.

He shuffles back, settling between my knees again, but then seems to rethink and pats my hip softly. "Could you get on your knees for me?"

I don't see why not.

"_Beautiful,_" he moans and kisses my hole again, getting it all slippery with his probing, dancing tongue. He's already opened me up enough that slipping in a single finger would be completely unfulfilling, but he just keeps on licking anyway.

His fingers are occupied slicking up the pliable silicone of my vibrator, anyway.

He runs it along my cock first, the vibrations on the lowest setting to just tickle the underside of my head and then guides it downwards, dragging it along my perineum and finally pulls his face away from my hole, and I grunt into the pillow I've hidden in at the loss, but he quickly tries to soothe with a few quick kisses to my ass cheeks. The tip of the vibrator probes my hole, testing, and then he pushes it in.

"You don't know _how_ hot this looks right now, baby," Sousuke moans from behind me, reaching around to hold my cock.

Having not been one to witness anything purple and cylindrical slide in and out of another male's raised asshole, no, I _don't_ know how it looks.

But I do know it's not enough.

"Hurry up," I demand.

Sousuke bursts into laughter.

"_Stamina_, baby. I missed you. Let me play with you," like a child misses his favourite toy, I guess. Though I'm not going to argue that the attention isn't nice.

He pumps the vibrator slowly, bringing up the speed every few minutes until when it's on its highest setting he coaxes me onto my back again, arms wrapped around my thighs to angle my cock into his mouth.

I was probably already on the brink of cumming _without_ his amazing oral abilities. He know it, too, and clamps his lips down around my base and it's all I can do to resist bucking into his face. It's probably my worry about hurting him that brings me down more than his action.

His mouth pulls away with an apologetic kiss to my leaking head. "I'm going to buy you a cockring," he declares. "Have you ever used one?"

Small talk? Really, Sousuke? I just shake my head, if he can even tell with how much the rest of my body is shaking.

"I have one of those disposable rubber ones in my wallet but…" he runs his hand up and down my cock. "Might not be your size."

"Sou_suke_," I half whine, half scold.

"_Haru_," he mocks, coming back up to lick at my nipples while one hand starts to swirl the vibrator inside me, using it to push my walls out, ready to take him. He looks up at me, and his resolve visibly crumbles. "That _face,_ baby," he moans, torn.

Ah, that face. _The_ face. Years of practiced perfection poured into one single expression of _need_. It works on Sousuke just as well as it works on Makoto, apparently, only I'd never _dare_ pull it out on the latter for anything more than that last fillet of mackerel.

"You said you can't deny me anything on our date night…" I increase the pout; his face hides in the crook of my neck.

"It's such a shame you're so irresistible… alright, fine. It's not like you can't cum twice anyway," he resigns himself to his hardly unpleasant fate with a kiss to my neck. "Do you want to try a particular position?" he asks, with all the formality of a seasoned salesman.

"Just like this," I say, breathlessly, and he comes up to smile down at me.

"Anything you want. Do you think you're ready?"

I just nod, staring down at his massive, raging, untouched cock.

He gets himself protected and positioned between my legs, my back rolled just a little but he holds me so easily by the waist as he rubs his hot tip up and down my crack.

It burns. Oh _god_ does it burn. My every wince of pain is probably mirrored right in his face and I have to look away. He stills as soon as the head is in, and even now I can feel it pulsing. I risk a glance. Whatever he might like to say about his age taking its toll, I can see he's having trouble holding back.

"You're so _tight_, Haru…" he gasps, panting.

The pain flutters into pleasure slowly, every nerve being tingled with the girth of his cock and I push up to meet him. He looks horrified for a second, but allows me to get him seated deep and then forces us to both adjust for half a minute. He probably needs to cool off too. But then, as he hunkers over me, balanced on his forearms, something decidedly sinister flashes across his face.

"Do you think you can cum without me touching you, Haru?" he asks, kissing my jaw.

_Bastard_.

He chuckles lightly. "Well, I guess we're going to find out, aren't we?" he begins to pull back, slick sounds resonating between us with his painfully slow pace. "Let's see if I remember where your special little spot is, hmm?"

As if he even has to try.

He tries to be slow, tries to make it last, but just five minutes of being pounded with the occasional and very deliberate probe to the prostate has me begging for him to touch me, or at least do _something_ to let me finish. He's close too, I can tell with how his body shudders above me and how hard his eyes are squinted shut as he tries to revel in the pleasure for longer. There's nothing but moans and slick slaps coming between us, and then he lifts my hips up _just_ slightly by rolling me back a little more and that's it, I'm done.

It's just so _deep_.

Gravity does its little trick and my seed rolls down my stomach all the way to my neck, where Sousuke is there and more than happy to commence clean up duty even as he still thrusts away, barely giving me a cautious glance for permission to finish himself off without letting me settle, but it's ok, because I want to feel his cock ripple and pulse inside me with his release, which comes not more than a minute later.

He's careful not to collapse on top of me, however much he might want to, and slows his thrusts to lazy ins and outs as he softens. I'm already hard again, but we both decide to ignore it. Rolling to his side and slipping out, he dumps the condom in the trash by my bed and picks up the box of tissues while he's at it, mopping me up and finishing what he'd started with his tongue on my chest.

We're silent for a few moments, both still panting, and it sort of amazes me how he manages to get through all those little things you never think about so seamlessly, barely breaking contact.

"Come here," he doesn't even ask, just says it as he pulls me close to him. It takes him a few more gasps to word his sentence. "Have you had a nice night?"

I'm glad it's such an easy question, because I'm still not ready for words. I just nod against his chest and flop my arm over him, keeping him tight, because he's _mine_ –

"So, I'm allowed to take you out again?" he asks, his tone wistful and pressing, like he's –

_Oh_.

"If I say yes, does that mean we're… dating?" I let the question slip out. Sousuke's pretty easy to talk to _anyway_, but when we're both fucked out, I feel like I can't say anything wrong.

"Do you want to?" he fires off another question.

"Do _you_ want to?"

He chuckles softly. "It's not about me," he says, stroking my hair. I think it sort of is.

He has the slightest laughter lines this close, he really does look young for his age, and I… don't actually care, I realise. He's still Sousuke.

"Tell me what you want, Haru," he whispers.

"You."

He takes a small breath and lets it out as a sigh, bringing me even closer, all hesitancy gone where holding each other is involved. "Think about it, alright?"

"Not good at thinking," I grumble.

"Then we'll think together."


	3. I Just Can't Think Of Anything

"Sorry, I'm seeing someone," and his face falls, like a kicked puppy. Even on the wrong side of rejection, he's still _striking_, in an odd sort of way.

"Though you might say something like that," Kisumi winks, and turns his gaze to Haru. For a second, I'm pretty sure he's about to proposition him as well, but he just leans back on his heels and smirks. "You stay out of trouble, cutie."

We get back into the office after our excursion to a meeting with Rei and a client – which has left Haru looking particularly peeved off – and I head straight in to get rid of my sticky suit jacket on the rack by the desk. Haru stays by the door, and raises his eyebrow in question when I turn back around.

I nod.

He clicks the lock.

I take to my chair and lean back into the thick leather, letting it rock slightly as he saunters his little ass over and comes to perch on the desk in front of me. He slips off his shoes with just a flick of his toes and brings his feet up onto my knees. His socks have a dog face on them. He's utterly _adorable_ sometimes.

"So who are you seeing?" he asks, balancing his elbow on his knee and resting his little chin in his palm.

I stroke the tops of his feet. "Oh, just this kid. Proper pretty little thing, he is," I say, putting on a wistful tone. "Even his feet are cute. Can't say much for his taste in socks, though."

A little smile pulls at his lips and I run my fingers up his shins, down his thighs and then rest my hands on his hips. "Come here," I coax, and his eyes flash this little spark of _joy_ that I can't ever get enough of when I help lift him into my lap, his knees straddling either side of my legs, pert bottom jutting purposefully into my thighs and I can't help but slide my hands around to squeeze it.

He moves in for a kiss, this little air of confidence still lingering within him, riding on the high of Kisumi's rejection, because he's _never_ this forward, especially at work. It's one of those long, tender kisses, where our noses brush and it ends with his forehead sinking down onto my cheek. Even if he won't admit it, I know he likes my lap, but that's okay, because I like having him in it too.

"You okay, baby?" I ask him, stroking his back and carding through his hair.

"Mm," and he nods and brings his arms under mine to wrap around my back, his legs joining just a moment later.

He's fine, just being cuddly, unconsciously seeking out affection to calm his little self down from the uptight morning we've had, him in particular being thoroughly scrutinised and critiqued to the point of rudeness by hot-shot clients looking for samples of his work. And to get it, he dotes on me first, especially as he knows it instils something particularly protective over him in me when I get to just _hold_ him. He's manipulative, in his own sneaky sort of way, but I also know he likes just sitting close, like he still can't believe it.

"Well you just sit tight while I write up all that, then we'll get some grub in you, kay?" I direct his chin onto my shoulder while I speak, turning my head to kiss the side of his neck just lightly.

"Mmhmm," he dismisses, a little bit like I've annoyed him with my patronising tone, but mostly like he's just relaxing.

So that's where he sits, doing a delightful little koala impression, for the next three quarters of an hour while I do the write up. Doesn't say a word, doesn't move even a millimetre. He might even have fallen asleep, with how limp and relaxed he feels. I have no problem with this.

"Haru?" I whisper.

"What?" he grunts. Ah. So he _was_ asleep.

I turn and kiss his cheek in apology. "Hop up. Get the print out for me?"

He's cute after a nap, all groggy and somehow developing a bedhead just from where he's been tucked under my chin as he peels himself away and pads to the shelf where the printer sits. He sits down hard in my lap on his return, just perched on the end of my knees, almost like he's sulking, and it's really a wonder no one's asked why we haven't brought another chair into our shared working space yet. He signs and prints his name diligently, leaving space above for mine.

"How are you holding up, with this?" I ask him.

"With what?"

"Your new work load," I clarify, and he sinks back a bit. He's always a little on edge that I'll be talking about _us_.

"It's effort," he grumbles, tilting his head down and sideways.

"Yeah?" he's still inherently lazy. "But how was your last wage slip?"

He makes this little sigh, this little, adorable pleased sound. I know exactly what his last wage was like. I wrote it.

"I bought new pillows," he says, turning slightly, so we can see each other.

"Is that an invitation to come and try them out?" I tease, working my hands to his waist and rubbing my fingers – not tickling, don't want to aggravate the monster.

"Mmhmm."

I stroke one hand up his back, a shudder rattling through his spine. "Are you free this evening?"

He jumps a little, surprised. Our rendezvous are generally assigned to the weekend, and almost always at my place. I always think he seems a little tentative about taking me home.

"I have dinner at Makoto's this evening," he says. I start to nod, but a flash of his eyes catches me off guard. "But… after nine?"

"The back door?" I smirk, bringing my face a little closer to his.

"Wait for me, if I get held up."

"Of course," how he even _thinks_ I'll be able to leave without at least a goodnight kiss, I'll never know.

And speaking of kisses…

I nudge my way forwards, bringing him back and turning him sideways into my lap as I go. "Hey," I mumble, hot breath on his neck, brushing my nose on his cheek. I push my lips to the side of his mouth, and he raises this cheeky little eyebrow before fully accepting my kiss, sticking his tongue out to find mine and drag me in, reaching one arm up and back behind my neck while I hold him all over his front.

We get to lunch at the end of everyone else's hour, so there's little choice in the canteen, but there'll be little choice in the local sandwich shops anyway, so I go for the remains of the mac and cheese and Haru just grabs a tortilla wrap from the shelf. The seating is relatively empty, and we find a table for two by the window. His knees slip between mine when we sit. Cutie.

"Do the running and hand in that write up?" I ask him between bites.

"To pretend I contributed?"

"Don't think taking a nap gets you any favours, except with me."

"Pervert."

"I don't get off on you _sleeping_, Haru," although he is exceptionally angelic looking, especially when he's all tucked in under my plush sheets, head sunken in a feather pillow, arms splayed out an up and his hair all tussled, a little bit sweaty, chest still heaving with exhaustion. It's probably against some kind of law for someone to be so _adorable_ while so utterly debauched, but never mind. He's gorgeous.

Haru, fairly, doesn't look convinced.

It's unfortunate that we have to keep the office door unlocked the majority of the time, but we _do_ have work to do, so Haru takes himself off to the chaise, sprawling himself out as ever, getting himself into his little zone, laptop up on his chest. Apparently he's going to sketch out the desired drafts and hand them in all together. I know Rei is just _loving_ his efficiency.

And we might just be a little motivated by saving time to have the occasional make-out session. Especially when Haru gets bored or frustrated, sometimes grunting in his annoyance, maybe muttering away, and I'll go over to sooth him or just gather his legs across my lap while he works through it. If he's irritated enough – and usual tired, when it gets to this point – he'll push the whole thing aside and come over to me, latching on just like earlier, even while I ignore him and carry on working.

He likes that. Even if we're just relaxing with a video game, he can sit quietly for _hours_, napping or not, just curled into me. It's domestic and sweet, and he's even _cuter_ when there's not even a peep of snark or sarcasm coming out of him, even though he's still so fun when he's like that, like he's still purposefully trying to get on my nerves and get a rise out of me.

Which maybe he is, because despite his squeals, I think he secretly _likes_ the tickles as punishment. He definitely likes the attention, if nothing else, especially the apologetic little kisses afterwards, little sweet pecks all over his cheeks and eyelids and nose while he pulls a pout. The pout doesn't last long when I lick it away.

"Sou?" he calls out, his casual preference in nicknames never failing to make me just _smile_ at him in response. "This okay?"

It's _always_ okay. It's always _absolutely perfect_, but he's got this new thing of asking for my opinion, and he doesn't seem happy if I just tell him how good it is.

I give his temple a quick kiss, crouching next to him and putting my arm around his shoulders, just gently, it could be _meaningless_ for all the attention the pair of us pay it, it's just so natural to have him close that I can't help it. "His left leg looks a bit… too sexy?" I suggest. With a quick stroke of the pen on his tablet, he's toned down the muscle definition just a degree, wordlessly, even though it's only supposed to be a rough sketch.

He gets another kiss to his temple. "Good boy."

"Mm."

Putting his laptop on the table beside us, he rolls his eyes at me, puffing out a sigh. He's _tired_ today.

"Rin working you too hard for next weekend already?" I say, quietly, stroking my hand down his arm and giving his fingers a squeeze.

"Mm…"

"Are you sure you're up for tonight? Don't want you staying up past your bedtime when you're already so tired…"

He nods quickly, grasping my hand and cutting me off. That's a yes, then.

"I'll be there," I assure, rubbing his stomach. "Come on, you have a delivery to make."

He grunts, lazy, and I grab his hands to pull him up as I stand. Pen-drive in hand, he gets up on his toes to give me a kiss before heading up to the print room to get his work done on glossy card with the ink so strong all the workers in that room are probably high.

I lift my chin up, getting my lips out of his reach.

Someone's not a happy Haru, after that little stunt.

If a kiss could be forceful, he pulls it off, an assaulting almost nibble into the underside of my jaw before he storms away, and I can't help but chuckle, which probably just annoys him even more. I can make it up to him later.

I'm filing when he returns. The cabinet is behind the door and he _almost_ catches me with it with how hard he pushes it open.

"_Watch_ it, Haru. Calm down," he's even more rattled than before he left. "What happened?"

He shakes his head, dismissing me, and goes to walk back to his chaise. I grab his wrist, jerking him to turn towards me, and just stand, a silent communication with his wavering eyes, all wide. I try and look soft, but he _knows_ he can talk to me if he wants to.

"Sorry," he says, turning his head away.

"What's bothering you?" I ask him, being careful to stay soft and gentle, sliding my hand down from his wrist and into his. He squeezes, and shakes his head. I let him go.

I at least get a kiss when I drop him off at the station after work – he won't let me drive him home, apparently it's too far out of my way, and I think he _likes_ his train journeys. I take an extra minute to run down his cheek with my finger and give him some extra fuss, which he doesn't brush off.

"I'll see you tonight," I tell him, resting our heads together, and give him a final peck.

I have a light dinner and a thorough shower and spend some time emailing a customer with a query. Excitement runs through me, and I'm already fighting off an erection when I'm getting back into the car to head over to his house, tomorrow's work clothes hanging up on the suit hook in the back. _That_ should be a nice surprise for him, if nothing else. I won't have to beat myself up over that little sulking face when I have to leave him later on.

I'm early, but that's okay. His back door is always left open anyway, a secret I'd been let in on only last week, and a perk I haven't gotten to use yet. I let myself in to the empty house and head down to his kitchen, putting a little parcel of choice mackerel in his fridge – it wins him over more than chocolates, trust me, I've tried – and put my clothes and bag in his room.

And… well, he's probably not going to be _long_, and it seems the right night to live out a little fantasy of mine.

I take of my clothes, palming my cock comfortably and go to lie on his bed. His new pillows are _wonderfully_ soft and, showing his intentions, he's left the old ones stacked in a little pile at the bottom corner of his bed, against the wall where he won't disturb them when he's just sleeping by himself. They're there for me to prop under his ass when I fuck him. I might buy him some silk sheets.

He must know I'm here – he'll recognise the car outside – and I get harder and harder as I hear his little feet padding around looking for me, and there's the most adorable gasp when he steps into his bedroom doorway.

"Hey," I say, sultry, holding my hand out.

He totters over, lacing our fingers as he climbs onto the bed and kneels beside me. It's like Makoto waves this magic wand over him, sprinkles him in happy dust, because he's _smiling_ so wide when he comes down to kiss me.

And I'm pretty sure I'm in love.

We start out kissing softly, easing him into it and getting him all laid out on top of me, wrapping my legs around his when they're lying between mine, hands roaming over his back, tussling his hair, squeezing his ass, just touching, feeling, getting as much of him as I can. And he's just _sooo_ content to kiss back, bringing both his hands up into my hair, gripping and mussing, eyes glued shut, a little moan vibrating from his throat to his tongue.

I take my time getting him undressed, peeling his polo up his back and over his head, and then roll him over, settling myself straddled over his hips, and proceed to kiss all over his neck and collar bones, moving out to his shoulders and back in, and to the other side. Little pecks down his biceps and forearms, and then long, hot licks back up, while my hands move to his chest, toying with the little buds of his nipples.

His eyes are wide, blown black with lust when I come back to his face to kiss him. His mouth hands open, but the corners of his lips curl upwards, and he makes a little grunting, humming noise of complaint when I pause briefly just to look at him.

After another kiss I move off him to work on his pants, just comfy sweats for his casual evening attire. Not exactly something I can take my time with unbuttoning and stripping down his legs, but I tug slowly anyway, the soft inside of the material running smoothly down his silky ski– jammers.

"Oh, Haru…" I say, bonking my head down onto his hip bone, kissing at the hem of the Lycra. He didn't have these on _earlier_, I know that for a fact.

But at least this means he's had a nice bath before going out to Makoto's. And his dick does look _marvellous_, the outline of his hard-on straining the fabric, his length stretching out, bulging at his thigh.

I roll them down, getting them over the gorgeous curve of his ass and work them down his thighs, kissing from the curve of his waist and over his hip as I go, down his thigh, just wavering a _little_ bit close to the inside, licking the back of his knee. And he's just so _ready_, cock throbbing, leaking already, little pants and a film of sweat, all hot and so _needy_, needing me to touch him and kiss him and lick him.

He has more doggy socks on – apparently he's acquired a multi pack of the things recently. I leave them.

His little hand twitches towards me, reaching for my shoulder to gently rub, first, because he worries _so much_ about that, and then nudge me up and over him again. I take both our cocks in my hand when I get back on top, holding my weight up. He groans, tugging me roughly by the neck into a kiss. It's all I can do not to let out a little laugh.

Yep. Definitely love this boy.

"You're awfully horny," I say, sort of scolding, mostly amused, and he pouts against my mouth.

"Missed you," he mutters, but then casts his gaze away quickly, like he's embarrassed. I get his attention back with a kiss.

"You've had me all week," it's Thursday, but I know what he means. He misses _this_ kind of intimacy. Maybe we'll have to bump up our schedule.

He glances away again, and suddenly feels so _unsure_ beneath me. I drop my head into the crook of his neck, nuzzling away. "I like it, though. How _keen_ you are," because I'm equally as keen.

I rock my hand, rubbing our dicks together, and he relents his nerves, bringing his arms to hug my shoulders and caress my neck, grunting little pants into my ear. I kiss his face, not wanting to obstruct the _devilish_ little noises he's making. I love them.

"Will you get on your knees for me? In your little doggy socks…" I tease, breathing on his cheek.

He blinks up at me, a little bit surprised and annoyed that my hand has stilled, but nods. I move off him.

His back arches perfectly, face buried down into his pillows and perfect ass high for my reach. I spread his legs apart, taking each thigh in my hands, and rubbing up the insides and cupping his cock and balls as I pass, keeping hold as I move my other hand around his ass, and give each cheek a kiss before I get the lube off the bedside table and set to fingering him open. It's a new angle, just _watching_ my fingers slide in and out, so _easy_ too, since this is so regular.

Haru makes a little grunty moan into the pillows, so I readjusted our angle so he can bury his head into my shoulders instead, his little body still in easy reach for my arms. He brings one arm over my chest, cuddling in. He can finish from this, and he _will_, if I let him. I pull out, and he is utterly _livid_ at the loss, turning his head to scowl at me. Kissing that one right away.

"Do you want to do it like this?" I ask him, running my hand down his back.

He just nods. Good. It seems fitting.

"Good boy, my pet," I coo as I sink into him in one go, hugging his hips as he shudders, and then hunker down over him, arms tight around his body as I begin to rut against him, not thrusting in and out, just pumping _deeper_ inside of him, taking my time, getting sucked in and lost inside his heat.

After a needy look over his shoulder – which I don't waste any time in kissing – I reach under him to take his desperate cock and thoroughly pamper it, teasing and stroking and caressing, playing with his leaking slit. I take a nipple in the fingers of my other hand, and that's it for him, he's fighting it, but it's okay, he _needs_ it.

"Come on, pup."

I catch everything in my hand and let him shudder for a minute, stroking his back with my clean fingers as I grab tissues to wipe off the other. He drives his hips forwards, separating us, and falls onto his back. His earlier smile has been replaced by his open mouthed, closed eyes look of wonder and satisfaction. I get his legs in my hands and push back in, laying on top of him again to fuck him gently as he comes down.

He opens his eyes, like he's seeing me for the first time all day.

"Hi."

He blinks, like a little owl, eyes all sparkling, and hooks his arms around my neck to bring me close, all up in his face, looking like he's going to kiss me.

"Woof," and he _squeezes_ around my cock.

The only word I can think of to describe him when we're finishing up our quick shower is _disappointed_, and that just won't do.

"What?" I ask, giving him a kiss to his forehead. "Did you want to go again?"

"We'd be up all night," yes, especially if Haru had any say in it, "you have to go…"

I get the towel wrapped around him, tight on his waist and drag him all up close. "I'm staying."

"Oh," and he pushes his face into my chest.

"Didn't think I'd come just for your ass, did you?"

Apparently yes, he had though that, with how he says nothing.

"You're more than just a booty call," I soothe, cupping his face. "You're my _boyfriend_, Haru. I lo–"

"Boyfriend?" he cuts me off.

I chuckle. "Yes. You know, comes with the whole _exclusive_ thing, the _dating_ thing, the _making out_ with you until I can't even breathe thing."

"Mm…" he looks down, and makes a little click of his tongue like he's finding actual words, but nothing comes.

I need to do something about this mood of his. If even _sex_ hasn't kicked it for long, there's something really wrong. I get him back to the bedroom, get my arm under his head and curl him into me.

"Tell me what's bothering you."

"It's nothing."

"Haru…"

He sighs. "I'm fine."

I stroke his hair, bringing him in even closer, so my nose touches his cheek, legs all intertwined, probably holding just tight enough that he can't get away without force. "Do I smell Kisumi?" I muse.

He shakes his head, a soft, so obviously _sad_ movement.

"Rin? The next competition?"

Another shake, and a squeeze as he finally – and I realise just how much I've been missing it – hug me back.

I hate to dwell on it, they're so close, but… "Makoto?"

He almost laughs at me. That's something, at least.

"Haruka –"

"Are you definitely staying?"

"Of course," is he worried I'm put off by his mood? All I want to do is help him through it. "Baby…"

"Good."

And he just rolls over, taking my arm with him to hug him tight, settling into the pillows, and I just… I don't know what to do. The only thing _to_ do, really, is keep a tight hold, so I'll if he moves away in the night.

Even upset, he has this amazing ability to fall asleep easily, and that makes me feel better, at least. There's a part of me that's vain enough to decide it's me helping him sleep easily and… well, when he shuffles backwards, positively _shrinking_ against me, I think that might even be the truth.

"I love you, Haru…"

And I'm starting to think he's fallen for me, too.

I'd _forgotten _about this part.

"Sousuke…" and it can only be the voice of my Haru, nudging me awake. I reach my arms out, feeling for him, grabbing for him, and tuck him back down with me. "We have to get up…Sou…?"

It's still _dark_ outside, and I've slept heavy enough that I've not even heard Haru's alarm. "Mmmrgh…"

"Come on," he coaxes, and I can feel him nosing at my cheek.

"Don't make me…" at least I think that's what I say. It's what I'm aiming for, anyway, within the grunts and groans and stretches.

"I have practice…" and Rin will _kill_ me if I make Haru skip.

And Rin's already going to be _highly_ unimpressed with Haru's…_ahem_, "situation" around his rear.

But it's not even _five_ in the morning yet, and all I want to do is cuddle up between Haru and these pillows and hide under the covers for another two hours but… it's Haru.

I rub my eyes as I sit up, Haru slipping his arm around my waist, like he's holding me up for the high chance I fall back down. "You keep me young, don't you, little one?" I muster, bringing my head down onto his shoulder.

"I'll run us a bath…" he says, even as he's hugging my shoulders and pushing a hand back through my hair. "And then I'll make you breakfast."

"Not mackerel…"

"Don't buy it for me if you don't want to eat it," he grunts, and I don't know _when_ he found it in the fridge, but he gives an appreciative little squeeze, obviously bored of me saying how it's my pleasure whenever he tries to thank me.

"Should I bring my own sausages for next time then?"

"You already _did_ bring your sausage…"

Oh, so we're playing _this_ game, are we? "Are you saying you want to change it up a little this morning?"

"Maybe..."

I don't know _where_ this boy learned to suck cock, but swimmer's lungs and his lithe little body balled up in the bath have suddenly made this early morning very much worth it.

And to top it off, he makes me waffles, and we're at the pool before for six.

"Didn't expect to see you this morning," Rin greets, hooking an arm around Haru's shoulders _immediately_ as we walk into the locker room. He mumbles some instructions into Haru's ear, hulking over him, and Haru just nods, just so _done_ with his fussing. Rin sends him off with a harsh spank.

Hiding his wince, Haru throws Rin the most incredulous _glare_ over his shoulder, and then his eyes hover on me in a worried little glance before he dashes away.

"There's something _up_ with that kid these days… what did you do?" Rin pokes me hard in the chest.

"Don't blame _me_, I was wondering the same thing… he's just so… _jittery_. But he was doing _fine_ this morning before you have to go slapping his ass."

"Oh why, because if he wasn't hurting before he is _now_, huh?"

"I was very gentle, thank you very much," I huff. Rin just smirks away, flashing his stupid teeth. "Find your own little butt to spank, that one's _mine_," because really, I have enough problems with _Kisumi_ stealing glances around every corner.

"But seriously, has he not said what's wrong? You're really not fighting or anything, are you?"

I shake my head. "Closer than ever," I smile, "but he just keeps getting so… I don't know. Like he's worried I don't want to. Or like _he_ doesn't want to, but he doesn't want to upset me."

"How long's it been?"

"Six weeks, give or take… I still don't think he's told anyone. Do you think he's embarrassed?"

"The age thing…? Nah, kid doesn't seem the type. Talk to him… before either of you get hurt."

I neglect to say that it's _already_ too late to stop me getting hurt, if Haru really is wavering on this whole _relationship_ thing.

And here I was, thinking he was in love too.

The ride to work is pleasant, Haru's all happy after his hour in the pool, and even more delighted he doesn't have to cram his way onto the train at rush hour. We have plenty of time left, too, so I stop off and buy us breakfast sandwiches, which we eat in the work car park. I set my hand on his leg, stroking gently, and he seems perfectly contented.

"Come on, easy day today," I smile, finding his hand when he's balling up his sandwich paper, giving him a little squeeze. "Are you coming to mine afterwards?" and I don't _mean_ to look so needy, but I can't help it, I love having him all to myself at the weekend.

He starts to nod, it's just the routine, but then the corner of his eye twitches. "Maybe tomorrow?" he mumbles.

And… _oh_.

So he _doesn't_ want to.

"That's fine," I lie, squeezing his hand, trying to act natural, "… plans?"

"Behind on school," he shrugs, easily, relaxing, like rejecting me, even for just one night, is a weight off his shoulders. "After lunch?"

"It's a date."

Haru takes casually to the chaise, picking right back up where we left off yesterday, little picture of innocence right there, and he's quite calm and contented to sit there working away, humming to himself, clicking his tongue in irritation occasionally and he's just… so normal. As if nothing was ever the matter to begin with. I'm probably _staring_ I'm so blown away by this sudden transformation into his usual self.

He makes a little grunt, and I realise he's come to look at me too.

"Yes, baby?"

"You look like you're thinking too hard."

"Well, that's always dangerous."

He gives a little smirk, and I try and calm down whatever my face is doing and get to my own work – which at this point is mostly just looking at Haru's fantastic creations, work that just _speaks for itself_ and really doesn't need my sketchy annotations.

"What colour should I do the donkey?" Haru asks a little later, not even looking up as he continues drawing, little eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Brown… maybe with spots."

I wait while he draws, waiting for the little flick of the head that summons me over to check it, and he doesn't fail my expectations. For some reason, I thought he would…

"Some around his face, too?" I offer, and he nods away while I crouch by him, arm behind his shoulders.

"Where?"

"Hmm… here?" and I kiss his nose, getting a snort out of him.

"Dork."

"Your dork," and he gets another kiss.

"You're so _distracting_," he whines, shoving me away with his nose in my cheek.

As if _he_ has any room to call me distracting. I have no idea how I'm managing to work with this gorgeous creature always in my peripheral vision, trying to keep my hands mostly to myself, because we're so _public_ here, and my little Haru really doesn't seem comfortable with that yet. I'm barely allowed to hold his hand if I take him out somewhere.

I squeeze his shoulders and leave him alone, he doesn't look like he's even acknowledged my absence, and I wonder, could I be _annoying_ him? I don't meant to be _clingy_, he's just so touchable and… it's not like he's ever discouraged it.

"Hey," I call out around eleven. "I'm getting coffee. Do you want anything?"

"Surprise me," he mutters, scowling away at his laptop.

A hot cup of chai should do him nicely, then, grumpy little thing. Maybe with a side order of kisses. The coffee vendor is quiet, so I get our drinks quickly and head back to the office, pushing the door open with my shoulder. Haru hops up to come and help almost immediately.

"Thanks," we say together as he takes his drink.

His lips quirk upwards and he eyes the lock. Wordlessly, I turn it, and we both head to the chaise.

"Come on then. What's been on your mind?" I ask him as he leans into my chest, my arm coming around his shoulders.

He shrugs. "Nothing…"

"Really… even Rin said you've been acting weird the last few days. Is it school?" because really, that's been _so_ low on his priorities lately I'm surprised he still has a place on his course, and thinking about it, I'm not surprised he needs a night off from my distractions to get back on track.

He shakes his head, but he's not denying it.

"You can tell me, baby. I'll do everything I can to help."

He shuffles a little bit, like he's getting more comfortable, but also like he' just _itching_ with whatever it is, and then he finally heaves this huge sigh. "It's complicated."

"Then let me help you work it out. It's what I'm here for," that and kissing it all better afterwards.

He scoffs a little. "You're not my dad," and maybe I should have added that last part out loud.

"No," I agree. "But I do… care about you," a lot, at that.

"Mm," he hums, taking some of his tea. "Can I… reconsider tonight?"

"Anything you want."

"Can I kiss you?"

"As if I'd ever say no."

It's such a soft, chaste kiss. Sort of upset, sort of needy, but he pulls away with this little smile.

"Do you want me to have words with Rin about slapping your butt?" I ask him, because that seems to have been the catalyst for the latest bad mood.

He just shrugs.

"You didn't look pleased," I continue.

"It's just Rin…"

"Yeah…" and I laugh, tussling his hair a little. "If it was anyone else, though…"

"Would you be jealous?" he asks, expectant.

"Yup," and isn't _that_ the easiest answer I've had for him all day.

He's happy with my answer, as proved when he gives me another kiss. He shuffles some more, getting onto my knees, sitting sideways so he can hug his arms around my neck, drink still jostling in his hands.

"If you _spill_ that –"

"I get to sit with you shirtless for the rest of the day," he shrugs, like he's actually contemplating it, shifted right back into his usual cheeky self. "Come to mine for dinner."

Demanding little thing. "I suppose, it _is_ good mackerel I got you," I muse, cuddling him into me. "Hey, let's work through lunch and leave early?"

"This isn't exactly working…" he says, idly kissing up my jaw.

"This is our break," our kissing break, and he rests so happily on me, finishing his drink.

I kiss him, open and wet, watching his eyes close and feeling a content little breath escape. "You taste like coffee," he protests, even as he comes in for more.

"You still taste like that kipper thing you had this morning," I counter, pecking him a little bit roughly. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mm… sorry."

"It's alright. I promise."

I kiss him till he's hard and panting and suspiciously eyeing the office door.

"Nope. Not happening," I tell him, clapping my hand over his mouth before he can even _suggest_ taking this further.

He pouts. "I sucked _you_ off this morning."

"In your _bathroom_, Haru. You know, _in private_."

"You're the one with all the PDA," he scowls, nosing into my neck."

"I do _try_ to keep it PG, thank you. You shouldn't be so irresistible."

"Not irresistible enough, apparently," he whines, but it's not petulant, or even all that disappointed.

I rub him through his pants. "Minx."

"Your minx."

"Absolutely," I kiss him again, and then shove him off with a spank, but he's so _happy_ again, and oh, _oh_ how I want to tell him I love him, but…

I'm not really sure he's ready.

He finishes up his series of donkey pictures quietly, and while I'm immersed in listening to the recording of a meeting to rejig my knowledge of what this guy wants, he comes over and pops his laptop down on the desk, and pops himself into my lap, swinging his legs over the arm of my chair. I pet his hair just a bit while I finish my notes with the other hand, letting him snuggle in, so content and relaxed and _confident_ that he's more than welcome to splay himself out all over me.

I kiss his head, because that's what he's missing when he gets all worried and upset and _distant_, like he thinks _he's_ annoying_ me_.

_Idiot_.

At least I know what I need to get fixed this weekend with him, really _work_ on this fact that he _is_ my boyfriend, that I _do_ want his attention.

The donkey has a delightful smattering of dapples around his nose in his series of five frames, coming up to the fence around his enclosure and breaking into a grin. It even seems a waste that this will be going off somewhere else to be copied and animated, because no one else will capture this the same way Haru does. It sort of makes me want to go out and pet a donkey.

I'll have to make do with Haru instead.

"He's really cute," I tell him, pulling out my ear buds. "Have you never wanted to get into animation?"

"Too much effort," he grumbles. "I only draw free."

This babe, honestly. I kiss his hair while I scroll through the images, him nuzzling right into my neck, apparently making up for lost time for being such a moody baby yesterday.

"_Seriously, guys_," a voice, and I know just whose it is too, with that sarcastic, chirpy slur he's got going on, rings out from the doorway.

Oops. We didn't lock it.

Kisumi strides over, grinning as he folds his arms. Haru scrabbles to get up out of my lap, but I wedge him down with a tight arm. His eyes go wide and he tenses so much I can feel it right through to my toes.

"Chill, cutie," Kisumi smiles at him. "I'm just passing on a message from our favourite homeboy. Apparently you're not replying to his texts," and his smirk widens. "But I can see you've been a little _distracted._"

"Mm, and you're interrupting," I tell him, directing a pointed glare and giving Haru's legs a stroke.

"Rin wants drinks and a catch up this weekend with the three of us…" he looks at Haru again, who's just staring hard at the door, ignoring the pair of us, "_four_ of us, even."

"We have plans," Haru mutters quietly.

"Oh, I _bet_ you do," Kisumi snickers. "Another time, then. We obviously have a _lot_ to catch up on."

Haru makes a little noise and Kisumi and I both look at him. His face is torn between irritation and embarrassment.

"Give the guy a kiss, poor thing's like a deer in the headlights," Kisumi laughs. "I always knew you had good taste."

"Mm, I do, don't I?" I agree, curling a hand in Haru's hair and bringing his forehead to my lips. "You relax. It's just this idiot."

He leaves with a scowl and Haru's eyebrows narrow at his back, and then rounds them on me.

"How long has he known?"

I shrug, smiling. "A while, at a guess."

"This is your fault," he grumbles.

"Probably," I concur. "Bet it doesn't do a _thing_ to stop him checking you out though."

"Hmmf," Haru grunts, but there's a smile hiding there somewhere.

"You don't mind, do you? You're not embarrassed?"

He shakes his head. "Thought you would be."

"_Haru_," I sigh. Seriously, where do I sign this boy up for lessons in this or something? "Is this why I haven't met your friend yet?"

He shrugs. "I don't know how he'll take it…" I rub his back, encouraging him along. "He's a bit protective."

"My type of guy," I smile. "He'd come around."

Haru just hums, and a few moments later climbs up and heads away, worrying his bottom lip with a silent thought.

He's smiling again when I get him inside his house and make out with him against the hallway wall for a few minutes, even before we've kicked our shoes off. And would you look at that, more of those adorable socks. He gives me free range of the lounge while he goes to change out of his work clothes – ah, the effort of getting him into an actual shirt in the mornings, because he has to interact more with customers now – and pack up his satchel for the weekend at mine. Not that we ever spend most of the time dressed anyway.

I've offered him drawer space, hell, he can have a whole chest if he wants, but he always ignores me, religiously packing up his bag and bringing home his dirty laundry. He comes back down in loose cut offs and a t-shirt I think is one he's looted from Rin's stash at mine, being baggy on him, but it's cute, resting on the gorgeous curve of his ass. He gives me a side eye for staring as he goes into the kitchen.

"Can I help?" I ask, putting my chin on top of his head from behind.

"Nope," he says curtly, filleting the fish I bought him. "This looks good."

"Only the best for my boy."

I settle my hands on his little waist while he cooks, squeezing and rubbing and just… just loving, really. He leans back while his fish cooks, almost like it's instinctive, and with the same thought path I draw him closer.

"Thank you. For reconsidering," I murmur into his hair. "I was worried."

He startles just a little, tensing in my hold. "What about?"

I shrug, knowing he can feel it. "That you didn't want to spend time with me?" I offer, struggling with how to word it.

"Idiot," he grunts. "But I do have school work…"

"Bring it with you," it's not like we'll have sex tonight, anyway. Don't want to wear him out _just_ yet.

We eat in a happy silence, knees brushing under his table as we work our way through the mountain of food he's placed in the centre, having cooked up all the fish so it doesn't spoil over the weekend.

"Gonna bring a doggy bag?" I tease him as he starts to put it into containers.

He wavers for a moment, looking between me and the food. "I… might give it to Makoto," he says. "He's a crap cook."

"Text him, then. And then we can get going."

He nods and goes to get his phone from his jacket pocket, tapping away and then dumping it on the counter. I take it and leave it with my keys, because I know he'll forget it otherwise.

Makoto lets himself into Haru's home, cheerily calling out his arrival in a soft voice that seems appropriate for the way Haru talks about him. Haru's in the kitchen doing the dishes – and after a broken plate the last time I tried to help, I've been sent to the lounge, which is the guy's first stop on his Haru-hunt.

"Oh…" he says, looking more than just a little surprised.

"Hi," I reply, just as awkwardly, and Haru comes bustling into the room with a bag.

"Makoto," he breathes. "This is… Sousuke."

"Oh," Makoto repeats, and gives me a scrutinising look. "_Sou-chan?_" he asks Haru.

"Yes," he whispers.

_Sou-chan_.

"Haru!" we yell together, and I grab at his waist with one hand and hold the other out to Makoto. "Nice to meet you."

He nods, nervous, and shakes my hand, all the while staring hard at Haru, quirking his eyebrows, cocking his head, as if they're communicating silently.

"He's my… boyfriend," and he whispers the word, and I realise it's the first time he's said it.

Makoto continues to nod, and then settles into a warm smile. "Somehow I thought you'd be younger," he says, with a cocked eyebrow. "The way Haru-chan talks about _this guy from work_ who _keeps getting close_, and he goes bright red and –"

"_Makoto_," Haru hisses, and I curl him into me, grinning like an idiot.

"So you do talk about me?" I tease, kissing his cheek.

"Sort of," he mutters.

Haru ignores the canvas he's set up on my dining table in favour of taking my hand and pulling me into the bathroom, setting the hot water to fill the tub as he diligently strips me off, unaffected by both my smirk and my arousal, before getting out of his own clothes and silently stepping in. I take my cue to get in behind him and pull him against me.

"This isn't school work," I tell him, even as I'm kissing his neck.

"Wanted a bath," he shrugs, relaxing, head tilted back on my shoulder.

"Makoto seems nice."

"Mm…"

"Better reaction than you expected?"

He nods, and the silence means I should just be quiet and _enjoy the water_, or something, with him. It's not a _long_ bath, by Haru's standards, but he gets out apparently with the intentions of being productive, a contented little look on his face.

I love him.

His little boxer-briefs are bright blue and covered in little black dolphins, but the cuffs of the legs barely peek out under the black hoody of mine he's acquired, rolling the sleeves back and pushing them up to his elbows.

"Hey."

"Hmm?"

"Give me a kiss. You look cute."

He rolls his eyes, but tilts his head up to me anyway, and I satisfy my craving.

Somehow, this weekend, I'm going to tell him how I feel. _Somehow_.

He draws in soft pastel, a landscape scene with a waterfall, and he looks proud of the finished product. I see him file it into his folder as _complete_. Good.

It's my turn to drag him around now, so I take him straight to the bedroom, even though it's only early, to pamper him and give him that blow job I denied him earlier. Although, we're both a bit tired from such an early start, especially after last night. And Haru… Haru's had a long week.

I suck him dry, drawing it out just enough that it's not a wasted effort, but I decided against teasing him, at least for tonight. His kiss afterwards is nothing short of appreciative.

This is probably a good time, really, while he's not on the edge of crying from being edged to a powerful orgasm for hours, while he's not angry with me for bullying him about his adorable underwear, while he's here, just all mine as he snuggles into my arms, intertwining our legs and still wearing my sweatshirt.

"Haru… I love you."

I feel him blinking against me. "What?"

"I said _I love you_," I stress, squeezing him tight.

"…Oh," he splutters eventually. "Oh. Ok."

It's a kick, but it's ok. I stroke his hair, kissing at his forehead, trying to be _soothing_ as he gets all tense and twitchy in my hold.

"Is that what this is, then?" he asks. I look at him, confused, and he gives an exasperated sigh. "_This_," and he presses a tight fist over his heart.

"Haru…"

"Is that the word… for this feeling?" he demands, voice pitched with worry. His lip wobbles. "I… thought…"

I cut him off with a tender kiss. "It's ok, Haru. Is _this_ why you've been so weird these last few days? This feeling?"

He nods, and I'm worried there might be tears at some point tonight.

"Baby… come on, it's ok. It's just me. Deep breath."

He listens, completely trusting, completely obedient, clinging to my arm almost painfully as he rattles himself for the right words. "I think I love you," he whispers.

I just can't think of anything else to say to him.

EPILOGUE

"Haruka!" Sousuke calls, and yeah, that full name thing? That's a habit of his now. Especially when he's grumpy, or tired, or _both_, as I suspect today is.

"Yes?" I ask him, sweetly, heading into the kitchen, where the poor thing is just surrounded by boxes.

"Where the fuck are the mugs?" he demands.

Ah. Guy needs coffee. "Sit," I tell him, directing him to one of our _shiny, swivelling_ bar stools at the island.

I find the mugs, you know, in the large, well-padded box labelled _crockery_, with all our bowls and plates too, and I'm sorry, but he's just going to have to have instant before we get his new contraption set up. Two spoons of extra rich with plenty of milk so he can drink it immediately.

"Here," I say, passing it over, gently rubbing his other arm while he downs it. "Maybe we should chill for a few?"

"We have a whole _house_ to unpack, Haru…" he whines, holding his head in his hands.

"And the house isn't going anywhere. It's ours."

_Ours_. And it really is ours. Well, except for what we owe on the mortgage, but it's not my parents', and it's not Sousuke's rental place. It's _ours_.

He opens up his legs for me to step into and hug him, taking deep breaths of my hair as he relaxes.

"Why couldn't I have gotten a sports car for my midlife crisis? How did I end up with a swimmer instead?" he muses, teasingly as he brings his big warm arms right around me, resting his head on my shoulder.

"And when you start going bald and it's embarrassing to be seen out with me would you just keep me locked in the garage?" I ask, squeezing him far too lovingly for the little digs we're throwing.

"But… Haru did you want a house with a garage?"

"Idiot… No. I love this house."

His lip, worrying against my neck, settles and stills with a kiss. "How's the bed coming along?"

I gasp involuntarily, and before I can even answer he's laughing into me. "Remind me again how I let you talk me into a waterbed? And a _round_ one at that?"

"It's supportive for your back. And there's more room to cuddle," I inform him, very matter-of-factly.

He sighs, probably resisting the urge to argue _my back's fine_ or some other delusion. "Is the couch clear?"

It is, mostly because I knew how much he'd be wanting it shortly. "Come on," and I take his hand, clammy with sweat from all the hefty moving, and he's so going to feel it tomorrow on his shoulder…

I tow him along and push him down into the fabric – an upgrade from his leather from his bachelor days. It's all oversized, extra wide and extra long, with a circular jut at one end instead of having recliners. He lays down, and I cosy up into him, and we share little tender kisses on the lips.

"Just half an hour, then we'll get back to it, alright?" he suggests, like this was his idea in the first place.

I nod complacently, sticking one hand up his tee, just for the warmth of his skin, soft and hairy, having cut back on the waxing in the last couple of years, and especially in the last few months with getting the house move settled and underway. I stroke his chest, just petting him, while he does the same with my back. Just touching and loving and caressing, but then his hand starts to wander, sliding its way to my ass, gripping and kneading, cranking it right up to eleven.

And this guy's supposed to be forty five.

But two can play at this game, and it's not hard to sneak up to his nipples, the shirt riding up with me and I quickly work it over his head.

"Really? Right here?" he asks. "You don't want to save it for the bed?"

Ah… _well_.

He chuckles, rolling onto his back and sliding me on top of him. "You're never going to calm down, are you?"

"Keeping you young. Better watch it or I'll be putting you on the little blue pills."

Not that he's anywhere _close_ to needing them. Fit as a fiddle, still sculpted and stunning with his packed walls of muscle, still piling on the protein with all the pork and steak he inflicts on our diets. I have wrangled fish three times a week, though. We kiss, getting hotter and heavier, and I'm just getting harder and hornier until I'm humping against him. I can feel his smirk, he knows I'm getting desperate.

"Fine. We can christen the lounge first," as if he thinks he's getting away with denying me in the bedroom tonight.

He fucks me face first into the sofa, harder than we've gone in a while, nothing but my own spit on his fingers to lube us up and finishes deep inside me, so hot and so much I can feel it, before flipping me onto my back to suck me dry. None of that _stamina_ crap of our early days. Just raw, hot sex.

I take a quick spin under the shower, having grabbed the shirt he'd been wearing to throw on after wards, just for comfort, and just in case anyone's nosing in on the new neighbours while I'm padding to the bedroom.

Sousuke's fixed the bed up, putting the cushioned layer over the water mattress and making it up with his favourite black silk sheets – I prefer the navy flannelette set – and he lies spread eagle across the huge space, and I'm spoiled for choice with where to lie for some more kisses, but his side is enough, pillowing on his chest and hooking both my legs around one of his.

"You know I love you, don't you," he says softly.

And I do, _I do_. "And I love you," I mumble in return, a bit busy kissing at his chest.

He pulls a stalk of grapes from a packet he's put on the night stand, dangling them towards my mouth.

That's what started all this, after all.


End file.
